


Reliving Days Gone By

by sophielou21 (Scarlettpeony)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Baddie of the Week, Episode Related, Episode Style, F/M, False Identity, Gen, Magic, Not Beta Read, Serial Killers, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 06:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2570735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlettpeony/pseuds/sophielou21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin from thirteen years into the future must stop a dreaded witch. Under the guise of ‘Emrys’ the older Merlin must work with Arthur, Gwen and his younger self to stop the murderous witch and protect the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ @ 7th June 2010. "My third contribution to the Camelot Love Spring Fling. I know the prompt wanted something humorous but I ended up taking this seriously. I did it to try and prove to myself that I can still write stories that are plotty." 
> 
> Spoilers for all of S2, and some vague AU fan speculation for S3 (Or at least the in-between bits).
> 
> A few red-cape deaths including the death of a mother and her children.

_The Sacred Lands of Tor lay just beyond the White Mountains of the northern borders of Camelot. It shared its border with the kingdom on two sides, most notably the western border, which ran all the way to the sea. Although not controlled by any king, the Sacred Lands of Tor were a frequent victim to the changing political climates of Camelot and its neighbours._    
    
 _It was the location for many great (and forgotten) monuments to the Old Religion, left in ruins after Uther Pendragon purged his kingdom and obliged his fellow kings who shared the land of Dumnonia to do the same. Though many still allowed secret use of magic for their own purposes it was accepted by many that Dumnonia was ‘clean’, and so too was Tor._    
    
 _But that was thirteen years ago._    
    
 _Merlin recalled those days well and they were days he would rather forget. The tyranny of Uther Pendragon rattled on for years, and each year he was forced to watch more and more of his kind slaughtered._    
    
 _Their crime was use of magic, whether it was for good or bad. It was the same magic that Uther had hypocritically used to beget Arthur by Igraine. Then because he had been forced to make the sacrifice that magic demanded, the life of his wife, he punished all those that used it._    
    
 _It had all been for that longed-for-child._    
    
 _Arthur’s reign had brought peace to those innocent parties such as the druids who had all been forced into hiding. It had brought peace to the small-town seers who now reopened their shops and were able to trade spells and charms to help people in need. Even dream catchers were legalised once again._    
    
 _It was all still regulated but it was not illegal._  
    
 _For the ordinary magic-users who used their craft for harmless practises, the war was over.  
  
For people like Merlin the war was never over._    
    
 _He rode his horse through the Valley of the Fallen Kings towards the borders of Tor._  
    
 _He had one particular destination in mind. Nearby the Lake beyond which lay the Isle of the Blessed there were the Ancient Caves of Neahtid._  
    
 _There had been reports that the large rock that blocked the entrance to the cave had been moved. Often there were travelling sorcerers and enchantresses that went by it. That was how the change became known, as many of them were loyal to the king—or at least to 'Emrys'. It was said to have been sealed years ago by a powerful sorcerer._    
    
 _Merlin frequently travelled through Tor himself so he knew that the cave was indeed sealed. If it was now open then that could only mean trouble._    
    
 _He dismounted his horse and made his way slowly through the trees that sat at the opening of the cave. Cautiously he walked towards the entrance, still hoping that the mouth would be sealed._    
    
 _His hopes were in vain._    
    
 _As Merlin came into the clearing in front of the cave he noticed several lifeless figures lying on the ground. He took a deep breath. They must have heard about the cave being opened and come to see. Only when they got there_ someoneelse _with a darker motive for visiting the caves had been there too._    
    
 _He knelt to touch the skin of one man. It was cold, but it looked like he had only been dead a few hours. He sighed; there was nothing he could do for them now._    
    
 _Merlin stood up and made his way towards the cave, stepping through the dead bodies._    
    
 _Suddenly a hand snaked out and grabbed hold of his long dark green robes._    
    
 _“It was her!” the man winced helplessly. “It was... it was her, Master.”_    
    
 _Merlin knelt down again beside the man hushed him gently. He thought it was amazing this man had survived so long out in the open, although the warlock knew immediately there was no chance of saving him._  
    
 _“I’m sorry this happened to you,” the sorcerer whispered soothingly, placing his hand at the man’s temple. “I assure you whoever did this will not go unpunished.”_    
    
 _“She went through, Master,” he spluttered on. “It was_ her _. The evil Witch, the bitch from Hell itself... I saw her go through the caves...”_    
    
 _“Why did you come here?” Merlin asked._    
    
 _The man took a deep breath. Life was becoming all the harder to grasp on to. He was just a simple druid that had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He had known that Emrys would come, though. He had stayed alive to warn him of what_ she  _had done._  
    
 _He swallowed, “We had heard the Caves of Neahtid had been opened. The old druidic prophecies say that the caves hold the secret of the past, the present and the future. They hold the source of all magical power. We feared that someone was trying to tamper with destiny...”_    
    
 _Merlin nodded. “But_ she _was still here when you arrived?”_    
    
 _“We couldn’t overpower her, Master,” the druid man croaked. “It was my fault. I led them here. There were ten of us but we never stood a chance. She killed each of my friends one by one before she fatally wounded me in a way that would ensure I’d have a slow death. Then she stood over me... and laughed. Then—then she disappeared into a bright light within the cave...”_    
    
 _“What is your name?” the warlock asked softly._    
    
 _The man looked up at Merlin weakly. “Denzel, my Master.”_    
    
 _Merlin smiled._    
    
 _“That’s a good name,” and he placed his hand on the man’s forehead, “Sleep now, Denzel.”_  
    
 _On his word Denzel closed his eyes and within seconds his body fell limp. He took one last relieved breath before everything grew still. He was dead. There was no saving him so the least Merlin could do was end his suffering._    
    
 _He stood and turned away from Denzel’s body. To some his reaction may have seemed cold but in truth it was hardness. He had seen too many deaths and cried too many tears, and now he had none left to cry. So all he could do was follow their murderer and see that she was punished. Maybe if he was lucky he might kill her this time... but he doubted it. He found it as hard to kill her as she found it to kill him._    
    
 _He raised his sidhe staff in the air and looked up at the cave entrance; the light that Denzel had spoken of burst out from inside._  
    
 _With no reluctance or second thoughts, Merlin walked into it._    
    
    
*  
    
     
It was morning, and the warning bell tolled over Camelot.   
    
People knew that could only mean one thing: something  _bad_ had happened. However this was an occasion where the common folk knew _exactly_  what had happened. In the early hours of the morning the dead body of an old woman had been discovered not far from the castle walls in the lower quarters of town. Amidst the death and destruction surrounding Camelot one dead old woman didn’t seem like much news.   
    
Nonetheless Gaius was called out to inspect the body.   
    
Arthur and the guards made sure that no one disturbed the area. It was everyone’s hope that Gaius would announce the old girl had simply run out of life and died naturally.   
    
“She’s got to be at least eighty,” Arthur said, pacing slowly around where the body lay. “It might be that she just... keeled over and died.”   
    
Gaius raised an eyebrow, “In the street?”   
    
“Like I said she is old,” the prince replied. “Her time was probably up...”   
    
He stopped when he noticed the old physician’s face. It wasn’t difficult for Arthur to forget that Gaius was an old man but very easy to forget that his time was probably closer to being up than most people he knew.   
    
“Sorry,” Arthur said quickly. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”   
    
Gaius shook his head. “None taken, my lord, but there is something that doesn’t quite add up.”   
    
“Like what?” Arthur asked curiously.   
    
He walked around the area again. In the distance the guards were keeping back anxious locals wanting to see what was going on. He then surveyed the area: there were no signs of the ground being disturbed, no sign of a struggle and no sign that the old woman had been attacked as far as he could see.   
    
“There are no marks or wounds on the body,” the prince pointed out. “So she couldn’t have been killed by either a man or a creature.”   
    
“Perhaps,” Gaius nodded.   
    
He looked up and closed his notebook.   
    
“Nonetheless I would like to examine the body more closely,” he added, turning to Arthur. “So I can be completely certain that she died of natural causes. I think your father would appreciate it more.”   
    
Arthur sighed.   
    
He knew what Gaius meant was ‘conclusively prove no magic was involved’. Even a poor little old lady couldn’t die without the question of magic coming up. That was probably why the locals were so edgy. An old woman who had survived the travesties Camelot had faced was surely harder than to just give up and die in the street. At the very least she would have dragged herself home and died in bed.   
    
The prince was starting to wish she had and saved him, the guards and Gaius the formalities.   
    
“Of course,” Arthur finally said. “I’ll have the guards collect the body and bring it to your chambers for examination.”   
    
Gaius nodded. “Thank you.”   
    
He looked down at the old woman one last time and sighed.   
    
 _Something wasn’t right_.   
    
He covered her with a white sheet and followed Arthur towards the crowd. After they had left word with the guard to have the body collected and taken to Gaius’s chambers, the two men made their way back to the castle with a handful of the other guards to report back to the king.   
    
“Will you be requiring Merlin’s help?” the prince asked distractedly.   
    
Gaius nodded his head. “I think it would do well for his education, not that he’s taken much interest in it since he first came to Camelot. Unlike Gwen...”   
    
Arthur’s cheeks tinted red.   
    
“Gwen will be there when you examine the body?” he asked, surprised.   
    
“Naturally,” the old man replied. “She has very little to do around the palace these days so I have asked her to carry out chores for me. In time I might even come to train her up as a healer, in case I 'keel over and die'. So she has to learn how to handle a dead body as well as a live one.”   
    
“I understand that but,” the prince paused, trying to explain his feelings without ‘giving the game away’, “It just seems a bit much to be obliging her to help you cut up a dead body.”   
    
Gaius raised an eyebrow, but not like the way he did before. This time he was amused. He tried to hide his smile. It was sometimes easy to forget that Arthur didn’t know that he knew about his and Gwen’s feelings for each other.   
    
“I see,” he replied. “I wasn’t aware that you had been following Gwen’s recent dabbling in the arts of science, my lord.”   
    
Now his cheeks were bright red.   
    
“I just meant that...”   
    
“I know what you meant,” Gaius replied.  _In more ways than one_ , he thought. He smiled and went on, “In order to understand the human body better a physician or healer must first examine one, and the best way to do that is the analyse a dead one.”   
    
There was a short pause.   
    
“However unpleasant that may be,” Gaius finished.   
    
Arthur said nothing but inclined his head to show acceptance. He still didn’t like the idea of Gwen being around a dead body. He hated the thought of her dealing with the death of this old woman and he couldn’t stand the thought of her having to look at people mangled and mauled by creatures or killers.   
    
It brought out the protective side of him, though he would never admit that to either Gwen or Gaius. She would probably scowl and think he was being patronising (Although she wouldn’t say it). And Gaius, well, he already knew why Arthur felt the way he did.   
   
    
*  
   
     
“Poor thing,” Gwen muttered.   
    
She watched over her shoulder as Arthur, Merlin and two servants brought in the old woman’s body. Although it was covered in a white sheet it sent a chill down her spine and she looked away.   
    
Gwen’s sight immediately fell on Arthur and almost immediately he met her gaze with his own. They both quickly looked away, trying to hide the blushes on their cheeks from everyone else. Gwen distracted herself by clearing Gaius’s workbench of all the papers, potions and other nonsense to make room for the corpus.   
    
“I know,” Merlin replied. “It’s sad that she lived this long only to drop dead in the street.”   
    
“I meant that she was alone when she died,” Gwen corrected.   
    
In the meantime Gaius had been watching Gwen clear the table and turned his scowling eye on Merlin.   
    
“I thought I told you to clear away all this junk up,” the old man scolded. “Most of it is yours.”   
    
“The potions aren’t mine,” Merlin retorted cheekily. “They’re yours. Besides the papers aren’t all mine either, half of them are Gwen’s from that test you made us do yesterday.”   
    
Gaius had decided to start from scratch with Merlin’s education. This included giving him tests every week to see how much information they had retained, and he often invited Gwen to do them too despite the fact she wasn't officially his student. Still, she always won. Merlin wasn’t jealous but he was always keen to point out to Gaius that he had to run around after Arthur half the time too (whereas Gwen had Arthur running around after  _her_!)   
    
Not that Gaius accepted that as an excuse.   
    
“I don’t mind doing it,” Gwen quickly said, wanting to save an argument between the pair. She then smiled teasingly at Merlin. “Most of them are my  _correct_  answers, anyway.”   
    
Merlin chuckled, “Teacher’s pet.”   
    
“Gwen, could you fetch some more water?” Gaius asked suddenly. “We’ll need to wash the body down.”   
    
She nodded, “Of course.”   
    
Gwen picked up a bucket.   
    
As she slipped behind Arthur’s back, (while he was still trying not to look at her), she purposely brushed her fingers against his back as she walked past. It was a moment of guile; she wanted to remind him, as if she needed to, that she still had feelings for him. That she still loved him.  
    
It was a tiny gesture but very noticeable to Arthur. He jerked up as the shiver went right through him. He still managed not to watch her as she left but allowed himself to glance at her from the corner of his eye. A small smile creeped across his face.  
    
“You needn’t stay any longer, my lord,” Gaius said, turning to Arthur.   
    
He had seen what had just passed between them, of course.   
    
“I will send someone with my findings later.”   
    
Arthur hoped that someone would be Gwen.   
    
The truth was didn’t know whether he was coming or going at the moment with Gwen. When he had survived the confrontation with the dragon she had rushed out in full view of the guards to embrace him. Then they had returned to his chambers, laid side by side and  _talked_. God, they talked  _all through the night_.   
    
She had admitted to him how she had almost lost faith that their love would ever come to anything. But the past week had restored that faith. It made her realise that she couldn’t bear to be without him, that she would be at a loss if anything ever happened to him. She didn’t say how she came to realise all of this in detail but it meant the world to Arthur to finally hear it.   
    
It seemed for the first time they were both on the same page.   
    
Now they were both been preoccupied with the rebuilding the city. He didn’t begrudge her helping Gaius. In many ways he was glad that after Morgana's disappearance she hadn’t suffered too much in her job. Arthur was pleased that someone was letting Gwen was doing something that she was good at; she was too clever to be a lady’s maid.   
    
The prince left the room as the servants helped Merlin move the body onto the work bench.   
    
It was frustrating not being able to spend more time with Gwen. However when she made little gestures like running her fingers against his back or quickly kissing him when no one was looking, it reassured him until they finally did get to talk, which would hopefully be a little later that night.   
    
    
*  
     
    
“Merlin, if you’re going to keep getting in the way I will have to send  _you_ on Gwen’s errands instead.”   
    
Gaius moved Merlin to one side as he continued the autopsy of the old woman. His assistant and the former maid watched as he worked. They had past the stage of being disgusted by the sight of blood or the organs of a dead human. It was only when there was a  _loud_  squelching sound that both flinched.   
    
He had already checked the heart but there was nothing to suggest that the old woman had suffered a heart attack.   
    
“Gwen, would you take a look in my notebook?”   
    
The young woman picked up the brown leather book and opened it to the most recent page.   
    
“Read out my notes to me.”   
    
“It says,  _‘Body found on the left side of the street, lying on her back and inclined to the right_ ’,” she read aloud to Gaius and Merlin. “' _Left arm lying across the victim’s chest, right arm laid out straight to the side’_  and then in brackets you said _‘(Position of body indicates the victim fell to one side, and did not lie down. No sign of a struggle.)’_ ”   
    
Gwen put the notebook down.   
    
“You wrote ‘victim’ twice,” Merlin pointed out. “So, do you think Joan was killed?”   
    
“I’m not sure yet,” Gaius muttered, looking at her other organs. The two students watched in silence before he spoke again. “There’s no sign of any disease or damage in the liver, kidneys, or any other organs. I’ll have to examine them more closely...”   
    
“Anything we can do?” Gwen asked.   
    
“If you and Merlin could examine the content of her stomach I removed earlier,” the old man told her, pointing to the white cloudy liquid in the glass jug. “See if she took something that disagreed with her.”   
   
He turned back to probing the organs.   
   
“There’s no  _signs_ of poisoning,” he added. "But you never know..."   
    
Gwen picked up the large orbed beacon and brought it over to where Merlin had set the fire to heat up the liquid. She dropped another liquid into the white fluid and held it over the fire.   
    
“I don’t understand it,” she said to Merlin as they waited for it to change colour. “Joan was eighty but she still had so much life in her.”   
    
“I know,” Merlin nodded. “Only the other day she was trekking along the streets trying to keep everyone motivated.”   
    
“She was always so healthy,” she added.   
    
“I know,” he said again. “She is—was in better nick than some people half her age in Camelot.”   
    
“She lost her house in the dragon’s attack,” Gwen sighed sadly. “She was living with Mavis and her two children just next door to me; only last year her husband in the gargoyles’ attack.”   
    
“Let’s hope the other kingdoms don’t try it on while we’re still recovering, eh?” Merlin muttered, watching the liquid.   
    
Gwen raised an eyebrow. “You realise that you just jinked us, don’t you?”   
    
He looked up.   
    
“Sorry!” he chuckled nervously.   
    
The liquid remained the same colour: that meant there was nothing out of the ordinary with her stomach acids or anything else. Gwen brought it over to show Gaius.   
    
“So, nothing going on there then,” Gaius muttered, “Interesting.”   
    
The pair tilted their heads.   
    
“Is it interesting?” Merlin asked. “Did you find something?”   
    
Gaius put down his instruments and sighed. It had been staring him in the face but in his attempt to find a more logical explanation he had tried to ignore it. He had hoped to find something else but... this was all he had. He looked up at the two youngsters.   
    
“It may be an after effect rather than a cause but,” he then stepped aside and beckoned the two of them to look at her open chest. “Look and tell me what you see.”   
    
They moved closer and looked. Merlin puffed out air and made an ‘um’ sound while Gwen thought about it, not wanting to get it wrong.   
    
“Um, well,” Merlin said, deciding to state the obvious. “There was nothing wrong with her ribcage when you...” he gulped, remembering the unpleasant crunching sound, “ _removed_  them to look at her heart.”   
    
Gaius rolled his eyes.   
    
“Is it something to do with the heart?” Merlin asked.   
    
The physician shook his head.   
    
“Is it something to do with her lungs?” Gwen then said.   
    
He then smiled.   
    
“Oh,” Merlin said, and looked back. “But... there doesn’t look like there is anything wrong? Does there?”   
    
He addressed the ‘does there’ to Gwen, who shook her head in confusion.   
  
“What are we looking at, Gaius?” she asked. “Apart from the fact that she clearly breathed out when she died...”   
    
“That’s just it,” the old man said finally. He pointed at her lungs, “These lungs have been completely starved of air.”   
    
“Oh,” Gwen said, confused.   
    
“You said there was no sign of her being suffocated,” Merlin said, equally confused.   
    
Gaius nodded. “Yes I did say that but look at her lungs. They are perfectly healthy, in better condition than mine probably are. But they are  _tiny_ , like every last breath has been sucked from her body.”   
    
Merlin’s eyes widened. “But if she wasn’t strangled or anything how could her lungs be so starved of air?”   
    
Neither of them wanted to say the word, especially while Gwen was there. It was so easy them to forget sometimes that she existed outside their ‘hidden warlock’ talks.   
    
“Gaius,” Gwen suddenly said.   
    
The two men looked over to see her crouching over the old woman’s head. She was staring at a lock of wispy white hair. She pointed at it, “Does this mean anything?”   
    
Gaius moved over to look. “What are you talking about?”   
    
“No, I just noticed,” she explained as Gaius crouched over to have a look. He even whipped out his magnifying glass. “It looks as though a piece of her hair had been cut.”   
    
“Hmm,” Gaius murmured.   
    
Indeed, she was right. The hair had definitely been cut recently.   
    
He stood up again. “It’s probably nothing but worth noting down.”   
    
Gwen chuckled. “It was a silly observation, I know. I mean why would someone cut a strand of a dead woman’s hair off?”   
    
Gaius didn’t want to answer that question directly. He moved over to a basin to wash his hands. Once they were washed and dried he picked up his notebook and began to write down his findings so he could send them on to Arthur, and then to Uther.   
    
“You still haven’t answered Merlin’s question though,” Gwen then said. She looked away from the body to address Gaius directly. “What could have starved Joan’s lungs like that?”   
    
Gaius still didn’t want to shock or frighten her, not at this early stage. He certainly had no intention of writing it down before he had exhausted all possible explanations or possibilities for Joan’s sudden death. Yet he knew Gwen was a smart girl that wouldn’t run around causing a panic. Plus the look on Merlin’s face said that they should tell her.   
    
He sighed. “I wish to conduct a few more tests but no mortal could possibly starve the lungs to that extent and no leave a single mark on the body. It’s too early to say this conclusively but I suspect that Joan was killed  _by use of sorcery_.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on LJ @ 9th June 2010.

Elsewhere in the city a cloaked individual strolled through the streets. Dressed from head to toe in a long green cloak he stood out from the crowd, quickly identified by the locals as a passing stranger. On most days he wouldn’t have drawn much attention but today the people were on edge after Joan’s death (and possible murder) and everyone was suspected.   
  
To them it seemed like this man had come from a far off kingdom, judging by the strange fashion of his robes and the way he carried a mysterious staff with a turquoise jewel in it.   
  
He tried to make the best of it, smiled to passersby and bid her good day. The woman clutched her basket closer to her and walked faster.

 

The stranger wasn’t bothered.

 

When he reached the market he found crowds of people, gossiping. He walked in between them and quickly realised they had just one thing on their minds: the death of old Joan.

 

He overheard what a few of them were saying.

 

‘She just keeled over’ said one woman.

 

‘I hear she was done in,’ said another.

 

‘Poor old girl didn’t deserve to die in the streets,’ said a third.

 

Eventually he reached area where Joan had been found. It was still being guarded by Camelot’s foot patrol. The stranger rolled his eyes; even where  _he_ came from the guard were useless. Or rather they hadn’t  _improved_.

 

He stopped another passerby and pointed to the spot.

 

“Excuse me, isn’t that were they found her?” he asked the man.

 

The passerby was a middle-aged man with greying hair. He looked the stranger up and down but couldn’t see his face clearly beneath the shadow of his hood. He could just about make out his defined cheek bones and a pale chin marked with stubble. The stranger was clearly younger than him by ten years or so.

 

“Yeah,” the middle-aged-man said. “Poor old cow just keeled over and died.”

 

“Does anyone know the cause yet?”

 

“No, not yet” the man went on. “Gaius has the body taken for examination. We should know soon.”

 

That worried the stranger a little.

 

He felt a little sick in his stomach as the memories of this day flooded back to him. He couldn’t remember every detail but he knew what was about to occur and what he now had to do. He covered his mouth in disgust and pity, cursing himself for ever letting  _that witch_  come back here. Ever.

 

The middle-aged-man placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. The stranger was surprised by this gesture; it had been a long time since anyone had done something as simple as patting him on the shoulder to offer him comfort.

 

“Don’t be sad, stranger,” the man told him. “She was an old woman so it had to happen sometime.”

 

The stranger nodded, “Yes...  _she_  was an old woman.”

 

“What’s your name, stranger?” the middle-aged-man said after a beat.

 

The stranger looked at the man. He often wished he could put names to faces but it was no longer his forte. If the Queen was with him she would probably have remembered this man’s name. She made it her business to know everyone’s names though admittedly over time she had forgotten one or two and mixed a couple of them up.

 

“They call me Emrys,” the older Merlin finally replied.

 

 _That was the name I gave myself_ , he thought.

 

The middle-aged-man smiled, “Good to meet you, Emrys.”

 

‘Emrys’ smiled as he and the man parted ways.

 

However his smile faded quickly as he looked up at the sky above his head and realised it was noon. Then that sickly feeling from before returned and he remembered his actions this very afternoon all those years ago...

 

He looked over towards the street where Gwen’s house lay. That was when he noticed young Merlin walking with a basket tucked under his arm, looking very gawky and innocent. It was odd to see him, to look upon himself. 'Emrys' smiled for less than a second before a cold shiver ran through him and he decided it was time to move on.

   
 

*  
 

 

Gwen stood outside Arthur’s chambers.

 

She didn’t know why she hesitated especially since she had been sent to hand over Gaius's current report on the dead old woman’s body. _Joan_ , she kept telling herself.  _Her name was_ _Joan_. She was there to pass on the (incomplete) report on Joan’s dead body.

 

Gaius knew Arthur would prefer it if Gwen brought the report. Logically it should have been Merlin delivering the report before returning to his duties and Gwen delivering the people’s prescriptions. Her only regret was that it wasn’t her going to Mavis’s house to see whether she knew anything about Joan’s death. She was a little surprised not to have seen her or the children that day.

 

But Gaius could always take a hint (when he wanted to) and switched their chores around. Now it was Merlin calling on Mavis’s house and Gwen was calling on Arthur.

 

She knocked on the door and waited for a response.

 

“Come in,” she heard Arthur call from inside.

 

She opened the door and peered in.

 

Arthur was sat at the table with papers in front of him and a quill in his hand. When he saw it was Gwen he threw the feather down and jumped out from his seat, unable to fight back a smile.

 

“Guinevere,” he said in the delightful way he always said her name. It made Gwen blush.

 

She closed the door behind her but did not curtsy (since it was just the two of them.) In the old days the humble maidservant in would have been considered bold to approach Arthur but those days were gone now. It sometimes surprised her that Arthur could (potentially) be described as her lover or  _would-be_  lover. She didn’t know whether the former term was appropriate yet when the height of their intimacy so far had been tongues.

 

“Gaius asked me to give you the report on the dead body,” Gwen said, handing them to him. “I’m afraid he’s not found anything conclusive yet.”

 

Arthur took the notes from her hands. His skin brushed against hers as he did, causing their skin of both of them the prickle.

 

He read them through quickly, confused by the possible cause of death. He placed the notes down and turned to Gwen.

 

“Lungs starved of air?” he repeated aloud. “I thought there was no sign of strangulation.”

 

Gwen shook her head, “There isn’t but it’s the only abnormal thing that Gaius could find. He showed Merlin and me. The lungs were... shrunk. Like the air had been completely sucked out of them.”

 

Arthur pulled a face, “I wonder what caused that.”

 

She didn’t disclose Gaius’s preliminary deduction because he had told her not to. However she did scold herself again for speaking about Joan’s body as an object rather than as a person.

 

“Her lungs,” she said suddenly. “I meant to say  _her_  lungs had the air sucked out of them.”

 

There was an awkward silence as Gwen thought about her choice of words and Arthur watched the expression on her face.

 

“Gwen,” he said slowly. “Are you alright?”

 

She smiled meekly.   
   
“I’m fine, there’s nothing wrong except...”

 

Arthur tilted his head, “Except?”

 

“Except that...” Gwen paused again, and looked away as she tried to find the right way of describing how she felt. Another moment past and she turned to face him once again. “I suppose I’m worried that working with Gaius these days is changing me too much.”

 

The prince shrugged, “How so?”

 

“Like just now,” Gwen explained. “I talked about Joan’s body as if she were an object to be observed rather than a human being. At first when I watched Gaius examining her I found it hard to keep a neutral face. Then as we went on I felt myself become less and less... involved.”

 

She huffed out a sigh and leaned against the table beside where Arthur was leaning. He watched as she tilted her head back and took a deep breath.

 

“I knew her, Arthur,” she finally said after another moment. “She used to babysit me when I was a little girl. After my father died she came to my house to console me. I know other people did too but... this is the first time someone has cut them open and asked me to look at their insides.”

 

It was difficult not to smirk at the way Gwen had phrased that but she didn’t mind. She chuckled herself at the way she said it.

 

“It’s not like we were best friends but I still  _knew_  her,” she finished slowly. “I don’t know which is worse: feeling too emotionally involved or detaching myself completely.”

 

Arthur was still smiling. This time it was because of what she said for a different reason. It was a rare occasion when she shared her worries and he listened, rather than vice versa.

 

He sighed happily.

 

“What is it?” she asked.

 

“I love that you really think about these things,” he admitted, still smiling. “Most people would either be too emotionally involved or detach themselves completely without a thought of whether one way is better than the other.”

 

Gwen nodded. “But what I’m saying is—does this mean I’m not suitable to be a healer? I know I just serve him at the moment but I know Gaius wants him to train me as one. I’ll have to treat people, watch them die and be able to shake it off.”

 

“Does that bother you?”

 

She shrugged. “I suppose what I’m worried that I’ll become...  _cold_.”

 

Arthur laughed.

 

“Never,” he said confidently. “There is nothing wrong with being desensitised to something that you have to face every day. Just because you don’t cry for them does not mean you don’t care, it means you’re being sensible.”

 

“Does it?” she sighed.

 

He nudged her gently with his shoulder and she smiled.

 

“Yes, it does,” he assured her. “I’m not only saying this because I’m a man but I learnt a long time ago that no man is worse crying over. I lose men (and at a rate that overwhelms me at times) but I couldn’t mourn for them all because the lives of other people depend on what I do. I have to keep the others alive...”

 

A thought then occurred to Arthur, one he stumbled upon by chance. He looked to Gwen again and shifted closer to her.

 

“It’s not all that different for you,” he finished.

 

Gwen knew he was right. It was odd how well Arthur had phrased what he said, even if he had stumbled upon a few of his points by accident, and she liked it all the more because everything he said he meant honestly. It made her heart ache with love and affection again. When they shared moments like this it moved to a mature and domestic level, which she liked.

 

They stared at each other in silence.

 

Within two seconds they leant in and their lips touched. It wasn’t a deep kiss as the way they were standing didn’t allow for it. But the two of them missed that deep and passionate contact. Arthur shifted his body to stand straight and Gwen did the same, allowing him to pull her closer and tilt her head slightly.

 

They only wished they had more moments like this...

 

Suddenly the door burst open. Arthur and Gwen threw each other back in shock, fearing that someone might have just caught them and _correctly_  interpreted the situation. Their eyes shot to the door and they held their breaths. The panic was over within seconds: it was only Merlin.

 

“ _Merlin,_ ” Arthur growled. He felt so angry so quickly that he barely noticed that his servant’s expression was clearly distressed. “How many times have I told you to knock before you...?”

 

“I’m sorry!” he shouted, upset.

 

Gwen recovered from the shock Merlin had given them and stepped forward to take his hand. “Merlin, what is it?”

 

He looked at her with a pitying eye and shook his head.

 

“I’m so sorry, Gwen,” he said quietly. “Gaius asked me to fetch you immediately...”

 

Merlin looked to Arthur.

 

“Three more people have died. I just found them.”

 

“Who?” asked Arthur and Gwen in chorus.

 

He bit his lip. “It was Mavis... and her children.”

   
 

*  
 

 

The death of an old woman was a sad thing but nothing to get worked up about. It was her loss from the community that was sad not the fact she had died suddenly. Even if Gaius hadn’t been as thorough with finding the cause of Joan’s death as most people would have concluded any cause of death had happened because of advanced age.

 

But a mother with two children was  _very_  different.

 

Within an hour of Merlin stumbling into their house and finding the bodies the entire town was terrified. They didn’t know whether it was caused by a disease or magic or even a moral murderer. They couldn’t even feel safe in their own homes. Mavis and her children were all dead, and their deaths had been sudden and cruel.

 

Arthur had the guards close off the entire street as Gwen and Merlin rushed towards the house to find Gaius. There was word that even the king was calling on the scene this time.

 

Before she went into the house Arthur caught Gwen’s arm. He was careful to make sure that the guards and townsfolk couldn’t see them.

 

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” he whispered to her, knowing well that Mavis had been her neighbour. The deaths of two children made it all the more tragic. “After earlier I just...”

 

Gwen gave him a brave smile.   
  
“I’m fine. It’s like you said. I have a duty to others to deal with things like this.”

 

She followed Merlin inside the house, and Arthur followed quickly after her. The three youngsters saw Gaius kneeling beside Mavis’s body as it lay on the floor close to the fireplace. The wood inside was burned to a cinder. Gwen glanced to the side of the room to see the children lying in bed, both covered completely by the bed sheets.

 

“She’s been dead for hours,” Gaius said.

 

Arthur shifted his way past Gwen, squeezing her shoulders as he did, and walked to the fire to feel the ash that remained. “  
   
It looks as though it was left to burn all night,” he said grimly. “What ever happened, it happened some time during the evening.”

 

He stood and turned to Merlin.

 

“It the room exactly as you found it?” he asked.

 

Merlin nodded, still clearly upset at having been the one to find this family. The fact that they were the family Joan lived with made it all the more terrible. While they had been fussing over her death Mavis and the children had already been killed too. Merlin was now convinced they must have all been killed.

 

“There are no marks on the body,” Gaius went on. He got to his feet and looked over at the bed where the children slept. “Did you notice any marks on their necks or...?”

 

Merlin shook his head.

 

“I knocked on the door,” he explained. “There was no reply and the door was open so I thought I’d leave the prescription and come back later to talk about Joan...”

 

He retraced his steps as he told them.

 

“I noticed Mavis on the floor before I saw anything. I went over to see if she was alright, but I could tell from how cold she was that she was already dead.”

 

Merlin pointed to the children’s bed.

 

“I then went over to check the children,” he went on, swallowing hard. “But I guessed they were already dead before I even lifted the sheet to check them...”

 

“Their faces were already covered?” Gwen said softly. She was still in shock at the knowledge that her neighbours were dead. Not just Joan and Mavis but the children too. It left a sad feeling in her chest. “You didn’t do that?”

 

Merlin shook his head. “I made sure to leave the room as it was when I found it.”

 

Arthur looked between the bed and the dead mother lying on the floor. It was strange that Joan had died the way she did especially now the people she boarded with had also been found death. There was a moment that Arthur considered this was a case of infanticide. He didn’t say it, though. The death of Joan didn’t add up to it and her death was more than likely connected to the deaths of Mavis and her children.

 

He looked over to see Gwen staring at the children’s bed. He walked over and slipped his hand into hers. “How old were they?”

 

“Five and eight,” she replied quietly, “Ceri and Anwen.”

 

Merlin watched as Arthur ran his thumb over Gwen’s knuckles before slowly making his way over to where Gaius was making notes about Mavis’s body. He leant close to him so Arthur and Gwen couldn’t hear.

 

“Gaius, I—”

 

He then realised that Gaius was looking at a particular part of Mavis’s body, her head. The physician pointed it out to Merlin. There was a clean cut in the unfortunate woman’s messy, split and tangled blonde hair, just like the one Gwen had noticed on Joan.

 

“That’s been—” Merlin began again, and looked over his shoulder at the children. “Do you think when we check her two daughters’ hair they’ll have cuts in them too?”

 

“I’ll examine them back at my chambers but at this point,” Gaius said, looking around carefully, “There is only one conclusion I can draw from these four murders.”

 

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “You’re calling them murders?”

 

“You think so, don’t you?”

 

“Are you going to tell the king that?”

 

Gaius nodded, “I cannot find a scientific explanation for Joan’s death even if she was very old. I won’t confirm it until I have analysed Mavis and the girls but... it is better to be safe than sorry.”

 

“Even if the king is a magic-hating nut?”

 

“Quiet!” Gaius scolded him, “Arthur might hear you...”

 

There was sound of scuffling outside the house as people shouted _‘It’s the King!’_ over and over again. Arthur and Gwen quickly let go of each other’s hands, allowing her to move a good distance away from the prince to beside Merlin. They both stood up straight behind the table in the centre of the room.

 

A guard opened the door and Uther stepped over the threshold, looking around the simplicity of the room. Arthur likened it to his own reaction to Gwen’s house hen he first saw it, only he noticed his father seemed all the more out of place and uncomfortable in Mavis’s house. But that could have been the circumstance: a woman and her two children died here.

 

Gwen and Merlin bowed their heads to Uther while Arthur and Gaius stood to attention.

 

“My lord,” Gaius said.

 

Uther nodded, still looking around., “I hear that these are the second death reports today.”

 

“That is correct, my lord.”

 

“An old woman was found dead in the street this morning,” Arthur added. He had the demure of a soldier, reciting just facts. “Gaius requested to examine the woman’s body. Guinevere brought his report to me just as I heard about these second deaths.”

 

Uther barely acknowledged Gwen when Arthur nodded towards her and she smiled politely. Instead he turned back to Gaius. “A lot of fuss over a dead old woman,” he muttered. “If the person was young I’d understand but...”

 

“The woman was very healthy for her age,” Gaius replied. “I just wanted to be sure of the cause of death. Now these three bodies have also been found (three people that she lived with) I wonder if maybe the deaths are connected.”

 

“And what did you conclude about the old woman?”

 

“Joan,” Arthur suddenly said, without thinking. He glanced in Gwen’s direction. “The woman’s name was Joan.”

 

Uther rolled his eyes. He was certain his son was going soft.

 

“I can’t be certain yet, sire,” Gaius replied carefully, “but it seems Joan – and Mavis, so possibly her two daughters as well – all suffocated.”

 

The king looked over at the bed, realising that the other two victims had been children. A chill went down his spine. “You don’t suppose it was... infanticide?”

 

Gwen tensed up angrily but Gaius stepped in immediately.

 

“No, sire,” the old man replied. “I will need to conduct some tests on these bodies as well but there is only one thing that could have sucked the air from Joan’s lungs with such force. That is sorcery.”

 

Everybody’s blood ran cold.

 

Uther’s face clouded with the usual array of anger for anything to do with magic. Even petty acts produced this reaction but this was different. Innocent people had been killed. The person that committed these murders was clearly a very dangerous, cruel and powerful sorcerer. That caused a spark a fear in even the most tolerant of people. In Uther it  _ignited_  a flame of hate.

 

It was a rare occasion where his paranoia was justified.

 

“Arthur,” the king said after a moment fuming, “I want the entire city investigated. Every citizen is to be checked and questioned. We must find this manic before they attack again...”

 

“Sire, are you sure that is the right course of action?” Gaius questioned. “These four deaths appear to have occurred back to back. We shouldn’t cause a panic until we are certain...”

 

Uther’s eyes were bursting with rage. “Four people are already dead including two small children. We don’t have time to lose if there is  _any_ chance that a renegade sorcerer is loose in Camelot!”

 

The king turned back to Arthur.

 

“See to it that every home is checked,” he barked.

 

“Yes, father,” Arthur replied assertively.

 

Uther left the house and strode off. It was easy to find the king’s temper frightening and overactive but given the circumstances even Merlin could understand why Uther was so furious. It was as he said; two small children had been killed. This individual was brutal.

 

Merlin sighed.

 

“I think this might be one of those occasions where Uther is right,” he whispered to Gaius. “Whoever is doing this  _deserves_  to have their head off.”

 

“I agree,” Gaius nodded. “My concern is about what he or she will do when they realise they are being hunted.”

 

“She,” Merlin said quietly. “You think a woman could have done this? They killed two children.”

 

Gaius picked up his notebook. “That means nothing.”

 

Merlin followed him out of the house, walking past both Arthur and Gwen as he did so. He gave them a worried look.

 

The pair was left alone for a moment. Arthur could tell Gwen was upset. Not only had Joan and Mavis died but two children had lost their lives. She couldn’t understand why even a sorcerer would do something so completely pitiless.

 

“I don’t want you to be alone tonight,” the prince said.

 

Gwen looked up at him.

 

“I don’t want you in town at all tonight, actually.”

 

A small smile appeared across her lips, “If it’ll make you feel better I’ll ask Merlin and Gaius if I can stay with them tonight.”

 

“Yes,” he said gruffly, nodding. “Do that. If they haven’t got enough room then I’ll find you somewhere in the castle. You can sleep in my bed if need be...”

 

Gwen bit her lip to hide a nervous smile.

 

Arthur felt his cheeks burn when he realised the connotations of that.

 

“I-I didn’t mean in  _that_  way,” he quickly said. “I would never force—I just meant—”

 

He glanced over to the body that lay on the floor. Before leaving Gaius had covered it with a sheet. Another cold chill ran through him as, for a second, he imagined this very scene again only in Gwen’s house. He didn’t want  _any_  more of his people to die in this way, but if anything happened to Guinevere Arthur couldn’t even begin to imagine what he would do. It was  _unimaginable_.

 

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He barely realised, during his rambling, that he had taken both Gwen’s hands in his and was holding them tight. “I’d just feel better if you were in the castle tonight.”

 

She leaned forward to rest her head gently against his chest. “So you can protect me?”

 

“Please don’t  _tease_  me,” was all he said.

 

“I’ll ask Merlin and Gaius, and if they don’t have room then I’ll let you know.”

 

They nearly kissed again but it didn’t feel appropriate given where they were. So instead Arthur freed Gwen’s hands and let her open the door to leave. After he cast one last look over the house he too went outside and immediately set about searching for this sorcerer.

 

Meanwhile Gwen walked through town to catch up with Gaius and Merlin. Her thoughts kept swirling between her sadness over these murders and Arthur’s insistence that she not stay in her house tonight. His concern for her made her chest feel tight with love.

 

In all honesty Gwen had no desire to go home. It was like when her father died and that renegade sorcerer threatened her. Now four people had died so close to her house, all of them female and two of them children. This person clearly had no honour if they didn’t care if they killed women and children.

 

Gwen started to wonder whether there was a pattern between the killings. Gaius certainly seemed to think so. Assuming that his original findings turned out to be correct and these people had been killed through magic, why had they been killed?

 

She didn’t know anything about magic but for a sorcerer to kill four females there had to have been a reason. Had Joan, Mavis or the children been witness to this person using magic? Or maybe the sorcerer needed something from Joan or Mavis? Why had they left Joan and Mavis lying bare but covered the children’s faces? But why kill the children at all?  _What about the cutting of the hair?_

 

Gwen stopped.

 

Without realising it she had walked all the way from town to the square. Once again she scolded herself for being so analytical over what had happened. It was a good thing for a healer to do and Gaius would be pleased, but she still feared that it was making her think less about the people that had died.

 

She looked to the cloisters.

 

The thing she saw next froze her blood.

 

At first she thought it was a trick of the eyes but when she blinked it was still there. Or rather  _she_  was still there, walking along the end of the cloisters.

 

Merlin came out of the main entrance.

 

“Gwen,” he called to her. “Gaius is looking for you.”

 

Gwen didn’t notice him as she stared, wide eyed and wondering whether she had gone mad. Right there, was Joan. It looked like Joan. It  _was_ Joan. But it couldn’t be...

 

“Gwen?” Merlin said again, walking up to her.

 

She felt dizzy. She knew it wasn’t Joan – that it  _couldn’t_  be Joan – and knew her mind was  _had_  to be playing tricks on her. But seeing her there startled her into silence. It  _frightened_  her.

 

Gwen stumbled a little, nearly falling over. Merlin rushed up and took her arm to keep her steady. As he helped her keep straight she felt foolish for reacting that way. Her mind was playing on her earlier doubts, and that annoyed her.

 

“Gwen, what’s wrong!?” he questioned her frantically. For a brief moment he was scared she would keel over and die too. Then he realised she was just a little stunned. “Are you alright? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

 

She looked at him and then back at the cloisters. ‘Joan’ was gone.

 

“I think I just did,” she gasped.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on LJ @ 13th June 2010.

Five guards kept watch of the palace vaults. Although there were precious riches and stolen artefacts from the Old Religion stashed there it was only with the recent theft and retrieval of the Crystal of Neahtid that the king had upped the security on the vaults to avoid such a thing happening again.

 

But five guards were no boundary for those with magic, particularly those who no longer had to fear retribution from the tyrant king.

 

“It’s awful really, isn’t it?” said one guard to another.

 

“You can say that again,” said another. “I mean what kind of sick person kills women and children?"

 

The third nodded, “Especially two little ones and an old lady.”

 

“Killing a mother is a bad enough crime,” the second added.

 

None of them noticed the individual approaching them from the shadows.

 

“Did you see the body of the old woman?” asked the fourth guard to the second and third.

 

“Nah,” they both muttered in unison. “We’ve been down here since early this morning, did you?” asked the second.

 

The other two shook their heads. “No, although my wife—”

 

The fifth and final member of the guard hushed them as he finally noticed the person walking towards them. He lifted his weapon and called out to them.

 

“Who’s there?”

 

She continued to walk forward at the same steady pace until she stepped into the light and was revealed. It was an old woman who none of them recognised. She had an unfitting purple hood pulled up over her head and strands of white hair stuck out from the sides. Her eyes were a liquid green and her lips were thin.

 

It was none other than old Joan who had died that morning.

 

“Excuse me, love,” the fifth guard said in relief, dropping his weapon. “I thought you might be an intruder. Are you alright?”

 

The old woman just stared at them with a faint smile.

 

“I said are you alright, love?” another guard said again. He waved his hand in front of her face.

 

There was still no reaction from the woman. She stood silently while the guards debated over whether she was mad or not. The truth was she wanted to draw out this moment. If there were any witnesses who escaped (which was extremely unlikely, she told herself) then no one would believe them when they said who the murderer was.

 

The guard who had first addressed her laughed and turn back to her. He spoke loudly and patronisingly, as if talking to a deaf person. “Are. You. All. Right?”

 

The woman raised her hand sharply and muttered: “... _ddygedig anadl_!”

 

He smiled faintly -- those words had been gibberish to him -- and tried to speak, but found he couldn’t. Slowly he felt the air from his lungs seep out through his mouth uncontrollably. Slowly,  _slowly_  he could feel his chest start to collapse inward as every last ounce of oxygen was starved.

 

It was very slow, quiet and  _painful_.

 

The other guards did nothing, just watched. They didn’t know what she was doing. He didn’t make a sound so they couldn’t tell from behind whether he was in pain or not. They could see his face twist as he desperately tried to take in air. The reason he made no sound was because he had no air to scream with. He was suffocating.

 

Then finally it was over.

 

He collapsed to the floor in a heap, his face blue and his body still. He was dead.

 

One of the other guards established this as he swiftly knelt to the ground to check him.  _“Oh my God!”_  was his confirmation.  _“He’s dead!”_

 

Foolishly the guards all held up their weapons to strike down this old woman. She seemed unvexed in the last seconds of their lives. If anything she was amused.

 

She raised her hand again and this time spoke the words of the spell more violently:  _“...pawb ddygedig anadl!”_

 

All of the guards dropped their weapons. They felt the same force that had killed their friend take hold of them too. One by one they fell to the floor dead. The strongest among them tried to right on to life but it was hopeless.

 

The false old woman kept her hand firm until the last guard was drained of all life. When he finally hit the ground she dropped her hand with a sigh.

 

Despite being a powerful sorceress this type of magic took a lot out of her – and she had used a lot of magic today. It was all unplanned and she knew she would have to rest soon to restore her strength in case  _Merlin_  turned up. That was if either or  _both_  Merlin turned up.

 

She stepped coolly over the dead bodies and she made her way to the stairs that lead down to the vaults.

   
  
She knew that  _her_  Merlin wouldn’t be far behind her. The moment he heard the Caves were opened he would have been at Tor faster than she could say  _afeallan déaþ._ If he caught up with her then there would be a fight, and he could undo her plans with a snap of his fingers. 

  
The witch opened the door, took a nearby torch and she made her way down the steps.

 

But what if young Merlin was the one that caught her first? Could she kill  _him_? That was a thought. What would happen if she  _did_  kill the boy? She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it until that moment. Maybe because it was impossible to kill him a young man because, as his older self was proof of, he did not die as a young man.

 

“Something would probably stop me,” she muttered in annoyance.

 

She might mess up the words of her spell, or something might physically get in the way of him, or she might even trip over her cape, fall on her face and lose all dignity. She knew it was wrong to mess with destiny especially when she was a large part of the future this Merlin would one day live.

 

Not that it mattered much. She knew that at this point in his life Merlin had not yet reached his full potential, the power that made her stomach churn with worry. He was still using petty magic tricks. Certainly he was more advanced than she ever was in her youth but after thirteen years of training she knew she was more than a match for that  _little boy_.

 

She may not be able to kill him without doing harm to herself but maybe she could...  _stun_  him or hurt him.

 

Finally she reached the familiar store she was looking for. She placed the torch down and looked to the lock. It was firmly padlocked after the previous theft but these locks were nothing to her.

 

The old woman held her hand to it and shouted  _“...agored, gyda chlec!”_

 

Not only did the iron-gate unlock but the entire door exploded off its hinges until it was clinging onto the wall by just a few straps of metal. She liked to open things with a bang, just like Merlin did at times.

 

She advanced to the second gate, which also lay heavily bolted. Once again she did the same spell  _“agored, gyda chlec!”_ and the gate exploded. Calmly she stepped through the fiery smoke to enter the last room.

 

The younger woman smiled through her old woman lips as her eyes latched onto the object she had gone there for. It was just as she remembered it. Sometimes she amazed herself at how quick thinking she was these days: she had only drawn up this plan last night.

 

Keenly, she picked it up from the cushion it rested on.

 

There it was: the Crystal of Neahtid.

 

 

*

 

 

‘Emrys’ opened the door to Gaius’s chambers. He knew no one would be in as ‘Merlin’ had gone to find Gwen, and they were now probably headed over to the small hall where Mavis and the children’s bodies were being taken.

 

It wouldn’t be long before they came to collect Joan’s body as well.

 

He did not remove his hood but jogged over to the table where the corpus was laid out, covered by a white sheet.

 

He leaned his staff against the wall and looked down.

 

He had forgotten what she looked like as for him she had been dead for over thirteen years and any memory he had of her was long since forgotten. Even though he remembered these days so well.

 

Emrys lifted the sheet to see her face.

 

Joan had looked good for her age. It was obvious by her features that she had been an attractive woman once. Her skin was wrinkled but not blotted. Her hair was completely white and wispy about her head. She had been a harmless old woman who could have lived another five, ten or even  _twenty_  years. He remembered she had been in good nick at eighty, so there was nothing to say she couldn’t have lived to be a hundred.

 

She would have still been alive in my time, he thought sadly. They  _all_  would have still been alive.

 

With hindsight Emrys realised quickly that these four people, in particular Joan, were prime examples of  _that_  witch’s tactic when it came to selecting victims. The witch liked her victims to be healthy and unimpeachable.

 

He covered the woman’s face again.

 

Suddenly Emrys heard three voices waft in from the corridor outside. It was Gaius, Merlin and Gwen.

 

Emrys wasn’t panicked by this nor did he rush away to hide somewhere. He just stood and waited for the three of them to enter.

 

 _“...it was almost certainly a trick of the eye,”_  came Gaius’s voice, addressing Gwen.

 

 _“I know that,”_  she replied firmly.  _“But the sight of her sent a chill down my spine.”_

 

 _“You’re probably finding it difficult to come to terms with what has happened today...”_  the old man went on.

 

He was cut off by her protests.

 

 _“I realise that too, Gaius,”_  she said with frustration.  _“I’ve been debating with myself all day about how I feel. It is hard dealing with the sick, the wounded and the dead. I always knew it might get to me occasionally but this was..._ strange _.”_

 

The door opened.

 

“Gwen might have a point,” Merlin said, coming in first but not noticing ‘Emrys’. “If a sorcerer is behind these deaths then they might have created the illusion to mess with our minds.”

 

There was a small round of clapping. Merlin, Gwen and Gaius spun around to see Emrys standing behind the bench.

 

“A  _very_  good point, Merlin,” Emrys declared with a smile.

 

He leaned on the table, authoritative yet approachable. It was a tad frightening for the three on lookers who didn’t know what to make of coming back and finding this strange man there.

 

“Worthy of myself,” the man added jokily. “You wouldn’t believe how close to the truth you already are.”

 

He then looked to Gwen.

 

“And Gwen, that moment when you saw old Joan’s ‘ghost’ – what were you thinking about?”

 

Gwen scowled and made no answer. Emrys smiled at her understandingly.

 

Then Gaius stepped in. “Who on earth are  _you_? And what are you doing in my chambers?!”

 

“I suppose it  _is_  funny,” the younger man said in a voice that seemed familiar to the physician but he couldn’t quite pinpoint how. “You find a strange man in your chambers, looking at the body of an old woman who died last night, knowing you lot would be at the small hall with the other three corpses...” He leaned against the table again. “It doesn’t look good for me, does it Gaius?”

 

The younger two looked at each other, and then at him again.

 

“Who are you?” Merlin asked.

 

Emrys grinned at him. “I think the  _real_  question you want to ask is – how did I know your names? That’s what you’re really thinking.”

 

The young warlock stared at this strange man. There was something about him that made him feel odd. Of course Emrys understood how he felt and why, but Merlin couldn’t begin to guess that the man standing in front of him  _was him_.

 

‘Emrys’ didn’t want him to realise, not quite yet. He knew the moment a younger self realised that someone is their older self they begin to doubt things. Even worse they start to ask questions about the future. For all the power and wisdom Emrys possessed even he didn’t understand completely cause and effect in terms of ‘time travel’. He didn’t want to change the future.

 

“How do you know our names?” Merlin said, as if correcting himself from his earlier question. “I’ve never met you in my life.”

 

“You haven’t met me yet,” Emrys replied with a grin. “But I knew  _you_... many years ago.”

 

Merlin shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

 

“It is difficult,” Emrys agreed. Every word he said just confused them more, and that was good. He wanted to confuse them and get them thinking. “I understand you are perplexed but I assure you – all three of you – that I mean no harm.”

 

Gwen stepped forward, her head tilted.

 

“You look familiar,” she said thoughtfully. “But I—can’t figure out where I...”

 

Emrys chuckled. “I’d know you anywhere, Guinevere. You never changed a bit.”

 

She was taken aback. That was a strange phrase.  _What did he mean by that?_

 

As she stepped back again Gaius moved forward to address this ‘young’ man. To Gwen and Merlin he probably looked like a grown-up but to the old physician he was just a youngster. Even under his hood Gaius could tell this man was in his thirties; tall and surprisingly wholesome-looking. He had the beginnings of a beard growing but most of his face was overshadowed by his dark green hood. He seemed quite handsome, though.

 

Gaius scowled. “Who are you and what do you want?”

 

“What makes you think I want anything?” he replied. “I came here with the intention of meeting the three of you.”

 

“Four people have died today...” Gaius said grimly.

 

Emrys nodded slowly. “I know...”

 

“And then you show up at my chambers, analysing the body,” the older man went on. “What are we supposed to think?”

 

Emrys stepped forward. “That maybe I know something about these deaths?”

 

“Do you?” Gwen asked.

 

He looked back to her.

 

“Yes.”

 

There was a long pause where no one knew what to say. Emrys looked between the stunned faces of Gwen, Gaius and Merlin. He knew each one of them was battling with the question of whether this strange man was the murderer. If he was then they could be in grave danger, and if he wasn’t then what did he know?

 

At least that was going through Merlin’s mind at the time.

 

Emrys turned to him. “You know it can’t have been me that killed them. Think about it: would you hang around if you had killed someone in cold blood? Would you kill someone in cold blood, full stop? I wouldn’t—would you?”

 

Merlin scowled. “Why are you asking me this?”

 

“I understand that you are starting to doubt yourself,” Emrys said with understanding. “I went through the same thing when I was your age. Doubt yourself if you must but don’t doubt  _me_.”

 

The young warlock was confused. He shook his head, “You’re just talking nonsense...”

 

“I have come to help you,” he explained. He looked full on to Gaius, “You have already concluded that the perpetrator of these killings was a magical being and you are right.” He then looked to Gwen, “When you came in I asked you a question – what were you thinking about before you saw Joan’s ghost?”

 

She shrugged. “What makes you think I was thinking anything?”

 

“You always think,” Emrys replied. “Yes, you may be a servant but you’re smarter than people give you credit for. You were thinking about the murderers, weren’t you? How they could be connected?”

 

Gwen tilted her head again. “How do you--?”

 

“I’m psychic,” he replied quickly, humorously, as if referring to some sort of in-joke. “Please answer the question.”

 

She was bemused by this talkative and straight-forward man.

 

“I was just wondering why this person killed Joan, Mavis and the children,” she replied coyly. “I thought either they had witnessed something and needed to be silenced... or the sorcerer needed to kill them for something else.”

 

Emrys raised his hand the moment she said ‘something else’.

 

“Ah!” he said poignantly. “That is  _exactly_  what she needed them for,  _something else_.”

 

“ _She,_ ” Gaius said after a minute. “It is definitely a ‘she’?”

 

Emrys nodded. “I came here to this Camelot to track her down after she  _escaped_  here.”

 

“Then maybe you should tell the king, he could lend guards to help you find her,” Gwen suggested.

 

The man seemed disturbed by this suggestion.

 

“I have nothing to say to Uther Pendragon,” Emrys told her dimly. He folded his arms and looked towards the window, “Besides his pathetic little ‘red-capes’ are no match for this mad homicidal sorceress who despises him even more than I do...”

 

This made Merlin’s ears burn. He looked at Emrys with a sudden kindred feeling.

 

“Are you a--?” he began.

 

The door swung open; it startled Merlin, Gwen and Gaius but Emrys remained undisturbed. It was Arthur on his own with no sign of the guards.

 

“Arthur,” Gwen gasped in relief. She then noticed that his expression was grim, “What’s wrong?”

 

He glanced at her briefly before he looked to Gaius.

 

“My father asked me to send for you,” he said in a monotone. “Five members of the palace guard have been killed. Sir Leon just found them.”

 

Merlin turned back to look at Emrys, who wore the same grim look that Arthur had. It was obvious the work of the same person who killed Joan and the others. That proved that Emrys couldn’t have killed those people, not while he was here running circles around them.

 

Arthur nodded his head towards the older Merlin.

 

“Who’s this?”

 

Gaius, Gwen and Merlin looked at each other. That was a good question – they didn’t know. The young warlock looked to the elder one, who just smiled in return and nodded in encouragement for his younger self to feed Arthur a story, which he did.

 

Merlin smiled. “This? Well, this is my...  _cousin_. He turned up yesterday for a visit and I forgot to tell you.”

 

“And does this cousin have a name?” Arthur asked.

 

He looked to the older man again. He wasn’t all that interested in Merlin’s ‘cousin’, not when five guards lay dead on the other side of the castle.

 

“Yes,” the servant replied, and thought for a second before suddenly saying, “His name is Emrys.”

 

Why had that name come to him of all names? It didn’t matter because from then on Merlin truly was ‘Emrys’.

 

At that introduction ‘Emrys’ nodded his head in respect.

 

“Prince Arthur,” he said politely, with a tint of irony.

 

Arthur nodded back and turned back to Gaius. “My father requests your presence immediately.”

 

The old man nodded and turned to Gwen and Merlin.

 

“You two should make sure Joan’s body is taken to the small hall,” he told them. “Wait for me there. Take ‘Emrys’ with you.”

 

The pair nodded.

 

Emrys lowered his hood to reveal his black-brown hair grown slightly longer than his younger self.

 

“No, I’ll come with  _you_ ,” he announced to Gaius. “I’m sure you’ll find my insight invaluable to this case.”

 

He rushed towards the door as he knew exactly where they were headed to. As he walked past Arthur the prince raised an eyebrow and called after him. “And what insight will you provide?”

 

Emrys turned around. “I’ll have you know that I'm a trained physician. I have yet to get to the level of Gaius but...”

 

He gave Arthur a cocky look.

 

“I am a second opinion.”

 

 

*

 

 

Gaius and Emrys followed Arthur to the site where the guards were killed while Gwen and Merlin helped organise the moving of Joan’s body to the small hall where the other three bodies were being stored. That was nine people dead. It was clear evidence of the mercilessness of this murderer.

 

There were several people standing around in the passage and the vault itself.

 

The physician knelt beside one of the dead guards. They had all been covered by faded red blankets by Sir Leon and the two other guards who had found them. He lifted the blanket as Emrys knelt beside him too.

 

Unlike the other victims, the guard’s eyes were wide open.

 

Emrys glanced up at King Uther Pendragon as he stood, hands on hips and surveying the damage done on the palace guard.

 

“Someone reported a suspicious individual entering the corridor that leads to the vaults,” Sir Leon explained. “I found came down here and found all five of them dead. The door that led to the vaults was open, and I immediately ordered the guard to inform Prince Arthur.”

 

On cue Arthur returned from his analysing the vaults. His expression was even grimmer than before.

 

“That’s not the worst part,” the knight added, reluctantly turning to the king. “There was a theft. It seems the crystal has been stolen again...”

 

Uther’s eyes were glassy with anger.

 

“I checked,” Arthur added dolefully. “It’s not like the last time. It appears magic was used to break into the vault. It was powerful magic too. The gates have literally been blown off their hinges; whoever did this is not only a murderer and a thief, but isn’t even prepared to be subtle about it.”

 

“The behaviour of a madman,” the king grumbled. He looked down at one of the guards. “Gaius, how did they die? Is it connected to the deaths this morning?”

 

The old man looked at Emrys before he addressed Uther. He knew they couldn’t keep up this facade for long that these things might not be connected.

 

“Well, I won’t know until...”

 

“ _Enough of this!_ ” the king barked. The death toll of that day had been high even for Camelot. He had received word also that another patrol of guard had been slaughtered in their search for Morgana. It wasn't a good day for Uther. “Stop trying to put off giving me a conclusion and just tell me the truth – what killed these men?”

 

Gaius swallowed. “They all appear to have been suffocated with the same magic that killed the other four victims, sire.”

 

At this point, without invitation, Emrys stepped in.

 

“If you’ll me forgive, my lord,” he began with authority. “I still think you should wait for Gaius to conduct his tests. I’ll think you’ll find there are some differences between these killings and the ones last night.”

 

Uther wasn’t in the mood for a jumped up little squirt he didn’t know telling him what he should do. Nonetheless he was curious about this young stranger Gaius had brought with him.

 

“And your name is?” the king asked patronisingly.

 

“Emrys, my lord,” he replied respectfully. “I am the cousin of Gaius’s assistant Merlin and a trained physician myself. I arrived yesterday to visit Merlin, but with these killings Gaius asked me to offer a second opinion.”

 

Gaius bit back a scoff; he had invited  _himself_  to make a second opinion!

 

“And your opinion is that we should wait?” the king scoffed quite freely.

 

“If you’ll pardon me, sire,” Emrys went on, undisturbed by Uther’s distain for his advice. “I believe she is done with killing... for now.”

 

“And how do you suppose that?” Arthur asked, not filled with the distain that his father was but rather curious. “She killed five guards and from what Gaius says it’s possible she killed the four citizens this morning too.”

 

Uther looked between the two men.

 

“You both said ‘she’,” the king said. “What makes you think this person is a woman?”

 

Emrys didn’t know how to answer that question; he couldn’t tell him about  _her_.

 

Thankfully Arthur then said: “According to the witness that approached Sir Leon the individual seen entering the post where the guards were... was a woman.”

 

“Her face was obscured,” Leon added. “But they were certain it was an old woman.”

 

There was a spark that glistened behind Uther’s eyes; thank goodness they had a suspect. “At least now we know who we’re looking for...”

 

 _That’s what you think_ , Emrys thought to himself.

 

“Arthur how goes the search of the town?” the king finished.

 

“So far we’ve found nothing suspicious,” the prince admitted. “I don’t believe this woman is a resident of the city – she must have come here within the last few days.”

 

“We must continue the search,” Uther ordered him. He wiped the sweat of stress from his forehead. “Arthur, I want you to focus your energy into finding the crystal. If this woman is a member of a renegade group like that last time the results could be catastrophic. I want this woman found - we have already wasted a day we could have been looking for Morgana. Find the crystal, find this woman.”

 

“Yes, father.”

 

“And when you do find her,” Uther added darkly, “don’t bother to take her prisoner. I won’t risk her escaping like that lunatic Alvarr did last time. I want this woman dead.”

 

There were times when Arthur thought his father was paranoid, but this was not one of those times. This person deserved to die – regardless of the fact she was a woman.

 

“Yes, father.”

 

Arthur had been worried when four people turned up dead in town but now it seemed even the palace wasn’t safe. It made him feel sick with fear. He felt as if the only way he could ensure Guinevere remained safe would be to guard her constantly himself, and he knew she wouldn’t like that.

 

“Sir Leon will take over your duties searching the town,” Uther finished.

 

Leon bowed. “Yes, my lord.”

 

The king then strode off with Sir Leon and the two guards hot on his heel. Once they were alone Arthur turned to Gaius.

 

“Where is Gwen,” he asked, before quickly adding, “And Merlin?”

 

Emrys instinctively lifted his head at the mention of his  _real_  name but quickly lowered it again without Arthur noticing.

 

“They’re in the small hall,” Gaius replied. “I’ll have these bodies moved there too.”

 

“A quick analysis is all we need,” Emrys finally said, getting to his feet. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the guards were suffocated just like Joan, Mavis and her children. However there is one particular thing about these deaths that is different...”

 

Arthur shrugged. “What’s that?”

 

It was difficult for him to believe that Emrys and Merlin could be related at all, especially since he felt that although his servant was well-meaning and kind, he was a bit stupid. Emrys had similar quirks that Merlin had; the same smile, the same cheek, the same attempt at being a smart-arse...

 

The only difference was that Emrys clearly  _was_  smart.

 

“Gwen will know when she sees it; she’s the one who first pointed it out,” Emrys said.

 

Gaius realised what he meant; it didn’t occur to him that Emrys hadn’t been there (or he had but not as he was now) when Gwen noticed it.

 

“The hair,” the physician said. “It hasn’t been cut.”

 

“Exactly,” Emrys nodded.

 

Arthur leant over to see what they were talking about. “What do mean? How is their hair cut significant?”

 

Emrys nearly laughed, but quickly realised that would be highly inappropriate. So he bit his lip, scratched the back of his head and turned to Arthur. He had forgotten how daft Arthur was when he was young.

 

“It’s not the hair cut,” he said carefully. “A lock of hair was cut from all the other bodies, but none of this lot. Why?”

 

He knew the answer; he was just humouring Arthur and Gaius.

 

Arthur shrugged. “I don’t know – mementos?”

 

“A good thought,” Emrys conceded. It was a clever thought for Arthur to have come up with. “But that doesn’t explain why she took it from the four bodies from this morning but not this lot.”

 

“This is different,” the prince said, walking over to the door that led to the vault. “Assuming the two attacks are connected, whoever  _she_  was came here for the crystal. The other four killings were... needless.”

 

“Needless to you,” the mysterious man replied. “But not to her...”

 

He jumped up and made for the exist.

 

“Where are you going?” Gaius called after him.

 

Emrys turned.

 

“To have a little catch-up with Gwen,” he replied quickly. “Something tells me she and Merlin may have some extra information by the time we get to them.”

 

He disappeared through the door. Arthur immediately followed after him, barely noticing Gaius addressing him with a ‘sire’ as he did. He didn’t know this Emrys but he felt compelled to follow him. It wasn’t just because he mentioned Gwen – he heard her name and he would run to her – but an instant willingness to trust this stranger.

 

He was Merlin’s cousin so he couldn’t be that much of a threat.

 

Left alone Gaius took a moment of brief reflection before ordering some servants outside to bring the bodies to the small hall. He would catch up with the others later.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on LJ @ 24rd June 2010.

The small hall had become a mortuary for the people killed that day. Compared to loses Camelot had suffered during the dragon’s attack or in their search for the lost Lady Morgana, these deaths were relatively minor. The four people killed that morning and now five guards had turned up dead. Nine people were nothing compared to the countless lost in the last year; over a hundred people either dead or disappeared.   
    
Yet the deaths of these nine people were no less serious, especially if magic was involved.   
    
“I expect Gaius and Emrys will be here soon with the guards’ bodies,” Merlin announced, overlooking the room of dead.   
    
Gwen stood beside the table on which little Anwen, Mavis’s elder daughter, was lying covered with a white sheet. It still hurt her that these children had been killed and she had to watch as Gaius analysed them and tried to explain how they died. She barely heard what Merlin had said.   
    
“Yes,” she said after a long silence. “I suppose so.”   
    
Merlin could tell his friend was down and he understood why. Gwen naturally emphasised with everyone she met, so it was natural that she would feel sorrow at the fact an old woman, a mother and two children from her street had been killed. Furthermore she had to cope seeing them lying dead on a table.   
    
“I wonder if ‘Emrys’ was of any help to Gaius,” Gwen said slowly.   
    
“He might have been,” Merlin said uncertainly. The truth was he didn’t quite get the measure of ‘Emrys’ yet. Hell, he didn’t even know what his real name was. “I’m not too sure what to make of him really.”   
    
Gwen looked over to him. “Why did you say he was your cousin?”   
    
Merlin shrugged. “I don’t really know – it was the first thing that came into my head. Like the name ‘Emrys’. I don’t know why I came up with that of all things.”   
    
And he really didn’t know. The dragon had once told him that Emrys was his name and it was what the druid boy Mordred called him. He had said that among the druidic people ‘Emrys’ was Merlin’s name. His destiny was never too far away from his mind so maybe the name ‘Emrys’ leaped out at him for that reason.   
    
Still, it seemed strange putting his own name to a man who was by all accounts a stranger.   
    
“Why did you lie to Arthur like that?” Gwen said, starting to think about it more. She wasn’t scolding Merlin but smiling, curious to know his reasons. “We don’t even know who this man is.”   
    
“Lying to Arthur comes naturally to me,” Merlin said simply.   
    
His blatant statement made Gwen laugh. She didn’t realise just how many lies he had to spin to keep this damned city afloat. Arthur’s life was threatened almost weekly and muggings Merlin had to sort it out,  _always_. Hell, Uther would have been long-dead had it not been for him.   
    
Nonetheless he smiled and carried on.   
    
“Emrys said he could help us,” he added. “Regardless of what we think of him as person it’s worth keeping him around for that reason alone.”   
    
There was another reason too: Merlin was convinced Emrys was a sorcerer. He didn’t know why but he had felt a kindred feeling when he was around him. It was similar to how he felt when he met other people of his kind only even stronger. He suspected Emrys was not only a sorcerer but a  _powerful_  one, more powerful than even he was.   
    
A good-natured warlock in Camelot was a rarity and Merlin intended to keep this man close until the lunatic committing these murders was dead.   
    
“What do you think of him?” Gwen asked.   
    
“Of Emrys, or rather, ‘whatever his name is’?”   
    
“Yes.”   
    
“I don’t know,” Merlin said choosing not to disclose the thoughts he was having. It probably wouldn’t have made sense to Gwen if he had, and if it did make sense it might lead to Gwen toppling his secret. He knew Arthur and Gwen’s selective blindness couldn’t go on forever. “I don’t _dislike_  him. What about you?”   
    
“I don’t know either,” Gwen said, thinking about it for a moment. It was odd but despite having only met him briefly she felt she could trust Emrys completely. She smiled genuinely for the first time since that morning, “I like him to be honest, even if he is a smart-arse.”   
    
Merlin chuckled. “Yeah, he’s all right I guess...”   
    
“He reminds me of you in some ways,” she added.   
    
“Really?”   
    
“Yes,” she nodded. “I could believe he was your cousin.”   
    
They felt they had exhausted the subject of Emrys – for the moment. Another few minutes past but there was still no sign of Gaius, Emrys or the bodies. Maybe there was more to these latest deaths than just five red-capes being killed by an unknown enemy?   
    
Merlin paced the room a few times before he finally decided to go and find the others. He turned to look at Gwen. She was now stood by the window, looking out at the bright afternoon sun. It was the only distraction she had from her dead neighbours now her conversation with Merlin was dead.   
    
“I’ll just go and see where Gaius is,” he said, pointing his thumb towards the door. “Will you be alright on your own?”   
    
“Of course,” Gwen smiled mildly, and nodded towards the tables. “It’s not like they can do me any harm.”   
    
“Are you sure?” he checked again.   
    
“Merlin, just go,” she told him, and kept smiling as she watched him walk out the door.   
    
Outside in the corridor Merlin was reluctant leave.   
    
He was worried that the pressure might be getting to Gwen. People she knew from day-to-day life had been killed and she had to watch as Gaius took them to pieces before her eyes, reducing them to slabs of meat. He hoped within time she would learn to cope with it... but then who was he to talk? He never forgot the people he had to harm or kill in order to protect Camelot.   
    
Back in the small hall Gwen continued to look out the window.   
    
It had been a strange day and she still couldn’t figure out how she felt about it all. The thing that worried her most now was how she felt indifferent to those guards being killed. Well, not indifferent but it wasn’t weighing on her mind.   
    
Arthur had said there was rarely time to mourn his men as his duty was to keep the others alive. That was how Gwen felt – but how could she protect the people still alive when she didn’t even know who their killer was? Even if she did, what good would it do? This person had magic and would probably kill  _her_ without a second thought.   
    
She thought back to earlier when she saw Joan walking along to cloisters. Gwen looked over to the table where she and Merlin had brought the body.   
    
Obviously it couldn’t have been Joan, but Gwen didn’t think it was her mind playing tricks on her either. It was only on reflection that she realised ‘Joan’ had been headed towards the vaults. So what was the point of creating an allusion of Joan? There wasn’t one. It couldn’t have been just an allusion;  _it had to have been the murderer_.   
    
That was when it occurred to Gwen.   
    
What if the murderer killed Joan and the others  _to create disguises so that no one would recognise them?_  Like that witch who had tried to kill Arthur by throwing a dagger at him in revenge for her son's execution. It seemed extreme but it was a possibility, even if Gwen knew nothing about magic.   
    
Maybe she was over-thinking it? Maybe she was just trying to convince herself that she wasn’t going mad!   
    
Gwen felt a chill shoot through her.   
    
She looked up at the windows that lined the side of the room but they were all sealed. It was a warm day anyway with no cold breeze.   
    
Maybe Merlin had left the door open? She turned around to close it, not wanting anyone to wander in and disturb the bodies.   
    
The moment Gwen turned she was grasped by the same fear she had felt earlier when she saw Joan, only more so. Her eyes widened and she backed against the wall in shock.   
    
There standing in front of her was Mavis.   
    
‘Mavis’ looked different; messy blonde hair that showed the first signs of aging, pearly white skin that looked grey and large blue eyes that looked as though soot had been rubbed into them. A faint, sinister smile crossed her face as she watched Gwen stare at her with fright. It was not a smile that Gwen remembered from Mavis, who was always kind and bright. This was the grin of a cunning witch direct from Hell.   
    
“My lady Guinevere,” the witch said cynically through Mavis’s voice.   
    
Gwen’s blood chilled and her eyes wide.  _How had she known her name?_    
    
It was clear to the sorceress that poor little Gwen didn’t know what to do. Yet she was disappointed as she had wanted the maid to be more frightened. She had wanted her to  _cry_. The ghost of her dead neighbour was standing in front of her; it should be enough  _to drive her mad_!   
    
Even if she had begun to suspect the truth of the bodies, she should be frightened that she would be next.   
    
For a brief moment the sorceress wondered about Gwen the same way she had about Merlin earlier. Could she actually kill  _Guinevere_?   
    
“Who are you?” Gwen managed to whisper.   
    
As the witch watched Gwen (who was slowly becoming more defiant than frightened) she imagined the act. It felt good to muse about squeezing every last breath from the haughty little scrubber’s body and then leaving her cold on the floor of the makeshift mortuary for Arthur to discover, and for Merlin to discover...  _twice_.   
    
When ‘Mavis’ did nothing but stand and watch her, Gwen began to question herself. Was she really seeing what she was seeing? Was it all in her head?   
    
She swallowed.   
    
 _Was she_ really _going mad?_    
    
Suddenly the witch stepped forward. She wanted to feel the young servant girl’s warm cheek and remind herself of the way she looked. Gwen tried to back further against the wall as the witch’s bony snow-white hand reached out to touch one of her loose curls.   
    
A  _seductive_  loose curl, the witch noted cynically.   
    
“Such a beauty,” the phantom muttered. “Unaltered, as ever...”   
    
She moved her hand away. Her smoky, glassy eyes looked into Gwen’s dark ones.   
    
“I was beautiful once too, you know,” ‘Mavis’ declared.   
    
The hand that clasped the curl slowly moved to cup Gwen’s chin.   
    
She shivered; the witch’s hands were as cold as the corpse she was copying. Only for a second did Gwen try to yank her face from the ghoul’s grasp. The witch smiled, sensing the girl’s feeble attempt at remaining collected.   
    
 _I’m not mad_ , Gwen kept telling herself.  _This is not Mavis and I am_ not _mad!_    
    
Gwen’s fears told her this couldn’t be real, her stomach told her not to resist while her mind begged and prayed for Merlin to come back. She tried to move her limbs but found she could not. She didn’t know whether it was magic or pure terror that kept her still.   
    
The witch’s hand snaked to Gwen’s neck.   
    
She squeaked as the freezing hand firmly held one side of her throat. The witch continued to stare at her, still waiting for Gwen to break down and cry for mercy. But she didn’t. Yes, she was frightened but she was silent all but for a few scared gasps.   
    
Angrily, ‘Mavis’ tightened her hold.   
    
Gwen instinctively grasped the woman’s wrist with both her hands. She knew this was how the murderer had killed her victims. Suffocation. There had been no marks to suggest the murderer had done it with their hands, but Gwen didn’t have time to think about it.   
    
This can’t be my imagination, she desperately thought. I-I can feel this!   
    
The more Gwen resisted the harder the witch pressed against the bottom of her throat. It was enough to make her cough and chock but not quite enough to strangle her. Nonetheless it was slowly getting harder and harder for her to breath.   
    
 _Please help me!_    
    
“Why aren’t you begging for mercy?” the witch gritted through her teeth.   
    
She held her neck even tighter. Gwen’s nails dug  _hard_  into the woman’s wrist. A tiny hiss of pain uttered from the disguised woman’s mouth. She rammed Gwen against the wall with her hand. Gwen thought she might pass out.   
    
“Why won’t you beg, Guinevere?!” the woman shouted.   
    
Gwen’s mind was starting to desert her. Nonetheless she made to reply.   
    
“ _I—can’t_ ,” she croaked in a voice that was barely a whisper.   
    
That was when the witch decided to test the theory. She would kill Guinevere. Not by magic as there was no point now but with her own two hands. She brought up her other hand to clutch Gwen’s throat with painful tightness.   
    
    
*   
    
    
Merlin wandered down the corridor in the direction of the vaults, expecting to meet Gaius and ‘Emrys’ on the way. He thought it was funny how he already thought of him as ‘Emrys’ despite the fact it had been him who christened him with that name. Once again he wondered what the man’s real name was and whether he would ever reveal it to them...   
    
Or would he just stop this woman and disappear into thin air?   
    
Suddenly he heard footsteps running towards him. Within seconds Emrys rushed around the corner, not stopping when he saw Merlin. Instead he grabbed his forearm and tried to pull him along before letting go and carrying on. He was running in the direction of the small hall.   
    
“What’s the rush?!” Merlin called after him, slowly following on.   
    
“Just  _hurry up_!” Emrys shouted back, still not stopping. “Don’t let it be too late!”   
    
 _Too late for what_ , Merlin thought before feeling compelled to run after him.   
    
Around the corner came Arthur, who caught sight of Merlin following Emrys. He ran on down the long corridor and eventually overtook him.   
    
“Do you know why Emrys is rushing?” Merlin asked, slowing down a bit.   
    
The prince didn’t steady for a second. “He said something about catching up with Gwen...”   
    
That explained why Arthur was rushing off his feet.   
    
Just then Merlin had a sickly, eerie feeling that something wasn’t right. There was something seriously wrong. It was like... the world was out of whack for a second. It was like something didn’t make sense to him. It compelled him once again to speed up and catch up with Emrys and Arthur.   
    
It was like Emrys knew something and Merlin was picking up on it, yet he couldn’t figure out what it was...   
    
    
*   
    
    
The sorceress was so determined to finish Gwen off that she used her strength to lift her feet from the ground, using the wall for support. It was now impossible for Gwen to breathe or even cry. Her heart and lungs were panicking and she tried to wiggle free. She was putting up a useless fight, the witch thought.   
    
 _Yet the_  damned  _girl_   _just wouldn’t die!_    
    
“You always did have more vigour than I gave you credit for,” the witch hissed mockingly. She put all her force into it now, every muscle. It was almost enough to snap Gwen's neck...   
    
Emrys exploded through the doors with a mighty force. The witch had enchanted the door locked but that was  _child’s_   _play_  to him.   
    
“Let her go!” he bellowed across the room.   
    
The witch was taken by surprise by Emrys’s entrance. She dropped Gwen immediately, losing interest in her asphyxiation. She turned to face him, her hands moving away from the maid’s throat. Gwen slumped to the floor, unmoving.   
    
Emrys wanted to use magic but he heard Arthur rush closer towards the door and into the room. The witch heard it too.   
    
 _“Guinevere?!”_  cried Arthur.   
    
He rushed into the room, seconds behind Emrys. The moment he did he stopped dead, seeing the witch in front of him.  _The dead mother..!_  But his mind didn’t even finish that impossible train of thought for long.  _What had happened to Guinevere?_    
    
Arthur drew his sword. “What have you done to her?”   
    
The witch ignored him as at this very moment  _their_  Merlin rushed into the room also. She looked at him with an odd keenness that he just caught sight of. It shocked him to the core. He didn’t know what it was but it was like...  _he knew her_. It wasn’t just the fact she was wearing Mavis’s face either. It was like how he had felt when he saw Emrys.   
    
It told him that this woman was undoubtedly the sorceress and the murderer...   
    
Merlin’s eyes fell to look at the floor. Gwen was concealed underneath the woman’s cape, but her right hand was just visible from beneath it.   
    
A terrifying dread grasped at his chest.  _No..._    
    
All of this took place in just ten seconds, which was all the time it took for the witch to react. She could probably have dealt with  _that_  Merlin and Arthur alone but not with  _her_  Merlin. No, she didn’t fancy her chances there.   
    
She grasped the pendant hanging around her neck and screamed,  _“Styrung byre afliegung!”_    
    
A gust of wind the swept up around the room and causing Arthur and Merlin to recoil, but Emrys stood defiantly against the wind. The wind circled around the sorceress, blowing the sheets off the bodies and a few of Gaius’s notes that he had left on a table nearby into the air. Finally, the woman faded away into the wind and disappeared.   
    
Gwen was left lying meekly on the floor.   
    
Arthur didn’t wait to marvel at what had happened. His sword slipped immediately from his fingers and he rushed to her side. A fear greater than anything he had ever felt gripped him. It was even stronger than the time she was taken prisoner by the Mercian bandits. It was  _crippling_.   
    
He cradled her in his arms, brushing strands of hair from her face as he desperately searched for her pulse. It had never been more  _difficult_. He couldn’t even remember where it was supposed to be. The longer he went without finding it, the more he started to panic...   
    
Emrys knelt slowly beside them. He calmly reached two fingers to feel Gwen’s neck; the witch’s finger-marks were all over her.   
    
“Be careful with her,” the prince croaked fragilely.   
    
“Calm down, Arthur,” Emrys said steadily.   
    
He placed a hand on his shoulder, which made him twitch but he didn’t resist. Arthur didn’t have the motivation to question anything at that moment.  _She can’t be dead, she can’t be, she can’t be...!_    
    
“If she’s—if  _anything_...”   
    
“Please, my lord, just stay calm and let me see her...”   
    
Emrys had to reassure Arthur somehow.   
    
Merlin watched with a mixture of guilt and fear that paralysed him to the spot. His head was filled with ‘what ifs...’ but it all boiled down to remorse that had he stayed with Gwen this might not have happened. Even if the witch had still attacked them, he could have protected her.   
    
He had never seen Arthur hysterical. Before now he would never have associated Arthur with the word ‘hysterical’. When Gwen had been threatened before he managed to maintain some control over his emotions. But now he had lost it. He was  _devastated_... and if the worst had befallen Gwen, Merlin dreaded his reaction.   
    
Emrys moved his hand away.   
    
“She’s still alive,” he said quickly, putting Arthur out of his misery. Emrys patted his shoulder carefully. “She’s breathing, she’s alive... but she is unconscious. We need to move her somewhere better than this.”   
    
“My chambers aren’t far,” Arthur said immediately, moving to pick her up. “We’ll take her there.”   
    
Merlin watched as Arthur strode towards the door with her head nestled against his chest. She looked peaceful for someone that had just nearly been killed. He noticed a tear glisten on Arthur’s cheek.   
    
The young warlock looked down guiltily as Arthur carried Gwen away.   
    
Emrys went up to Merlin and patted him on the shoulder.   
    
“Come on,” he said with a faint smile. “There’s no point in kicking yourself now.”   
    
“It’s my fault,” the younger man sniffed guilty. “We knew that woman was in the castle, I shouldn’t have left Gwen on her own...”   
    
“That doesn’t matter now,” Emrys said firmly, clearly not willing to indulge his own guilt. “She’s alive and now we move on. If I stood and lamented over every mistake and every hard decision I had to me I would be lost in a sea of self loathing and pity.”   
    
He stepped back and gripped his shoulder again.   
    
“So I swallow my guilt and carry on” Emrys finished with another smile.   
    
Merlin looked at Emrys.   
    
“We should catch up with Arthur,” he said slowly.   
    
Emrys nodded; with a sweep of his cape he left the room.   
    
Merlin stood there for a moment, thinking about what had happened. Who was that woman and why had she come here to the mortuary even after taking the crystal? He would have thought anyone who had stolen the crystal would have fled the moment they had laid their hot little hands on it. So why was she still knocking about the castle? It was like this witch was... mocking them.   
    
He glanced around the room one more time before he left after Emrys to follow Arthur.   
    
    
*   
    
    
Arthur gently laid Gwen down on his bed.   
    
He immediately moved to loosen her bodice, worried she might not be able to breathe properly with it tightly strapped.   
    
There was a moment of relief when he saw her stir albeit briefly. The fact that she had moved was enough to quell the fears he had gone through earlier. Never had he felt so powerless. When he saw her lying there on the floor, unmoving, he had feared the worst and that had overwhelmed him with a blinding madness.   
    
He looked at the bruise marks on her neck.   
    
Arthur was gripped by another emotion. Anger.  _Hate_. Desire for revenge flooded through him. This  _thing_  had killed eleven people.  _It_  prayed on women and children.  _It_  had attacked Guinevere, unprovoked. It had choked her within an inch of her life. When he found this enchanter he would show them no mercy. He didn’t care who they were: he would  _rip them apart_.   
    
Emrys came in.   
    
He immediately rushed to Gwen’s bedside to see her.   
    
“You loosened her bodice? Good” and he examined his neck more closely by the window light. “Thankfully it looks as though it was just bruised, no terrible damage done.”   
    
He stepped back as Merlin came in.   
    
“She should awake up in a while,” Emrys finished, looking over to his younger self. He seemed to have pulled himself together between the small hall and Arthur’s chambers. He turned back to Arthur, “Nonetheless we should keep an eye on her.”   
    
Arthur’s eyes never left Guinevere’s face.   
    
He suddenly remembered. “My father wanted me to track down the woman that stole the crystal...”   
    
Emrys scoffed. “You are  _not_  charging headfirst into that!”   
    
“I’ve never had more motivation to do so,” Arthur replied darkly. “After what that...  _monster_  has done to all those people, to those children, to Guinevere... I want to  _tear_  them  _apart_!”   
    
“If you steam through the castle, waving your sword and trying to track her down you’ll just get yourself killed,” the elder man snapped back at him. He shook his head in annoyance. “For the love of god you moronic wart, use your head! This woman has killed eleven people with ease and nearly throttled Gwen to death...”   
    
Arthur was so wound up he didn’t even notice that Emrys had called him a ‘wart’ or a moron. He finally looked away from Gwen. His eyes were profound and antagonised.   
    
“You said that this sorceress was done,” the prince said accusingly. “Clearly you were wrong.”   
    
Emrys was silent for a moment.   
    
“I knew she wouldn’t kill her” he said slowly.   
    
“Only because you ran off to find her,” Arthur retorted bitterly. He then stopped and thought for a moment. “Why did you run off to find Gwen like that? What did you want to ask her?”   
    
Emrys stared at him. “I never said I wanted to ask her anything.”   
    
“Then why did you want to find her so suddenly?”   
    
He looked at Arthur with a steady eye. There was no way he could tell him truth because it would endanger too many people. He knew his job now was to stop Arthur from doing something foolish, and the only way to do that would be to fill him in on all the details... before subduing him in some way. That was how he usually did it.   
    
Merlin stepped forward.   
    
“Arthur, you’re angry...”   
    
The prince glared at his servant. “Of course I’m angry!”   
    
“You always say you should never let personal grudges get in the way of your duty,” Merlin said defensively. “Going on a witch hunt because of what happened to Gwen... won’t solve anything.”   
    
“That monster deserves to be  _cut down_!” Arthur shouted back.   
    
Emrys thought immediately of Uther Pendragon and how close Arthur was to going the same way. When Igraine died the tyrant king had turned all things that were magical not matter how innocent or harmless they were. That was dangerous, but what had  _nearly_  happened to Arthur was worse. Someone who was undoubtedly evil had tried to take Guinevere’s life – the love of his life – and thus reinforced to Arthur that magic truly was undoubtedly evil.   
    
You stupid idiot, Emrys thought of  _the witch_.   
    
“She wasn’t a monster” he said firmly. Arthur and Merlin stared at him. He went on, “The  _thing_  you speak of is not a monster – she’s not good enough to be given such a  _lofty_  title.”   
    
Merlin folded his arms. “You know who she is?”   
    
Emrys stared back at them. “Yes.”   
    
Arthur immediately stood up but did not leave Gwen’s side. “Who is she?”   
    
The secret warlock didn’t say anything for a short while. He tried to remember exactly what he had told them back when these days were new to him and he had been  _that_  Merlin standing by the door, still innocent to the pain that lay ahead of him in his adult life.   
    
“A very powerful sorceress” Emrys finally said.   
    
“Does she have a name?” Arthur asked.   
    
“And why has she taken the form of Mavis?” Merlin added.   
    
“Mavis, Joan and the two little girls as well,” Emrys replied quickly. He removed his hood to reveal his dark hair that covered his forehead and ears. Arthur could definitely see the likeness between Emrys and Merlin. “That’s why she killed them.”   
    
Merlin’s eyes widened. “You mean to... take their forms?”   
    
The elder version nodded. “It’s a powerful kind of magic known as  _drych marw_ , or roughly translated as ‘the death mirror’. It’s her speciality.”   
    
“But why does she have to kill them?” Arthur asked.   
    
He was genuinely curious, so much so that he didn’t have the time to question why Emrys knew all this information. It didn’t quite occur to him that Emrys might be a sorcerer but now Merlin was certain. He vaguely recognised the spell Emrys spoke of: it was in his spell book.   
    
“Because there can’t be two versions of the same person walking around,” Merlin suddenly said, also not thinking. Arthur looked at him, eyebrows raised. He swallowed hard. “Well, you know all those superstitions about doppelgangers and déjà vu – you see your double and you die.”   
    
Arthur rolled his eyes: another one of Gaius’s ghost stories?!   
    
Emrys noticed Arthur’s expression. “You’d be surprised how close Merlin is to being right.”   
    
Merlin smiled. “Wow, I was nearly right?”   
    
“So this sorceress has become the doppelganger of the dead people?”   
    
“Only those she took a memento from,” Emrys corrected the prince.   
    
Merlin’s eyes shone with realisation. “That’s why she cuts strands of hair from them!”   
    
“Exactly,” Emrys nodded, pleased that ‘he’ had got it. “She wears the strands of hair in the pendant around her neck: she’s collected quite a few over the years. I can’t remember the last time I saw her real face...”   
    
He genuinely couldn’t although the last time he did see it, it was nothing like it had been when he had first known her.   
    
“Like many before her she began to flirt with black magic,” he recited seriously. “The more she let it take over, the more prone she came to practising it... until eventually came back to her threefold, cannibalised her soul and finally her looks.”   
    
Merlin suddenly had a thought: “Why didn’t she use any of the forms she had taken before now? Why did she kill Joan, Mavis and the children?”   
    
Emrys nearly answered him straight: because she is from the future and the people she had killed weren’t dead yet, so her usual magic was useless. But he couldn’t possibly tell them that! There would be too many questions asked.   
    
“She’s always on the look for a new face she can steal,” he explained with a near truth.   
    
“It seems more logical to have stolen the hair from the guards,” Arthur said, just thinking of it. “She’d be able to move about the castle more or less unnoticed.”   
    
Emrys shook his head. “She likes a challenge and more over she likes her forms to be unimpeachable. Despite being an extremely vain woman she prefers the bodies of old women to anything else...”   
    
“That explains why she killed Joan,” Arthur said quietly. He looked back to Gwen, who stirred again. “But why did she target Guinevere?”   
    
“To be honest,” Emrys said slowly. “I think she wanted to scare her. The attempted murder probably just popped into her head during her visit.”  
    
“Popped into her head,” Arthur scoffed angrily. “Anyone who attempts murder because it ‘popped into their head’ deserves to  _lose_  their head.”  
    
Merlin sighed.   
    
“Alright, so now we know she killed Joan, Mavis and the children...” he said thoughtfully. “But that still doesn’t answer why she stole the crystal...”   
    
“No,” Emrys agreed. “That is true—and a point I genuinely don’t fully understand yet myself. But I’m working on it. I have a pretty good idea why...”   
    
“There’s another question you’ve yet to answer,” Arthur said, looking up again. “Who is this woman?”   
    
There was no time to answer.   
    
Gwen began to wake up. As she slowly regained consciousness she felt the stiffness of her neck, the tightness of her throat and the weakened feel in her limbs. Her head left like it had been in a vice. She found it hard to swallow.   
    
Arthur stroked the side of her face soothingly.   
    
“Gwen?” he said attentively.   
    
She groaned again. “Arthur?”   
    
The other two men quickly came forward. Emrys sat at the bedside and rested his own hand on her forehead. His immediate thoughts were the same as Merlin’s had been earlier.  _I am so sorry, Gwen._  
    
“Guinevere, are you with us?” he said softly.   
    
“Merlin?” she said, confused.   
    
Something tugged at ‘Emrys’ heartstrings.   
    
“No, it’s Emrys” he said after a pause. “Merlin is here.”   
    
“Oh” Gwen said, closing her eyes again. “You’re so alike...”   
    
“Yeah, we are” Emrys muttered amusedly. “Can you tell us what happened?”   
    
“Leave her,” Arthur said softly. “She needs to rest.”   
    
“She just...” Gwen began slowly, trying to remember what happened. It was difficult as she had felt herself blacking out long before it actually happened. “She just appeared behind me. She called me by my name and then she just started...”   
    
Emrys hushed her soothingly, placing his palm flat on her forehead.   
    
“Rest now,” he said peacefully, in his mind enchanting a spell to make her sleep until she felt better. Slowly she began to drop off again. “You’ll feel must better after a rest...”   
    
    
*   
    
    
Gaius had noticed there was no sign of Merlin, Arthur, Gwen or Emrys in the small hall.   
    
He knew that Emrys had probably dragged them off somewhere else. The young man was surprisingly dominating as he seemed to have no trouble in convincing Merlin to lie for him or getting Arthur to follow after him. He had never met anyone quite like him... and yet he felt like he had.   
    
It was very frustrating.   
    
He decided to lock up the small hall and return to his chambers to sort out the other notes he had made. There were a lot already.   
    
He strode into his chambers carrying his notes and physician’s carrier. Then as he placed them down on the table he surveyed the room now clear of the dead Joan. All the objects that had been on the table they had set her on were all piled onto the main workbench.   
    
Then he noticed something propped into corner of the room. It was Merlin’s sidhe staff.   
    
“Oh Merlin!” the old man groaned, immediately walking over to pick it up. “It is a wonder your magic remains a mystery.”   
    
It was just like Merlin to be foolish enough to leave his magical objects lying around the chambers. Gaius carried the sidhe staff into Merlin’s room. He knew he kept it beneath the floorboards under his bed and thought it would be best if he put it back there.   
    
He kneeled on the floor and pulled up the wooden plank. Beneath it was a piece of red cloth which he pulled away to place it under.   
    
Gaius stopped and stared.   
    
Lying beneath the red cloth was Merlin’s magic book  _and his sidhe staff_.   
    
He picked up the staff as if to check he was really seeing it and then compared it to the one he had found in the other room. They were both real and they were both identical. Merlin didn’t keep two sidhe staffs, just the one. So where had this one come from?   
    
Gaius then had a thought. There was only one person who had been in their chambers and might have possibly brought this sidhe staff with him.   
    
That was Emrys. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on LJ @ 1st July 2010.

Arthur calmed down once Gwen was sleeping soundly. Emrys knew it would help him. It had been a terrible shock to Merlin but a horrendous one for Arthur. It had long since been the case that Guinevere held the keys to his heart, and Emrys (and Merlin) dreaded to see what would happen if anything  _had_  happened to her. Pandemonium, probably.

 

Now she was alive, safe and resting – now they could focus and be calm.

 

So they turned their attention to the witch.

 

“She doesn’t have one specific name,” Emrys told to the two younger men. “Not anymore, she is known by folk names and rumour.”

 

Arthur scoffed. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

 

“What is her name?” Merlin asked, directly and to the point.

 

“Some would call her  _Macha_   _Badb_  while others call her  _Cailleach_ ,” the older man explained. “There are some people that think she is the _Cyhyraeth_ , the disembodied spirit that haunts the dying, the dead and the never-born. Never wears her own face, yet regardless of the face she is wearing her look has the power to freeze the blood and slaughter the soul...”

 

The younger men looked at each other, confused by his overdramatic description of this woman. They had never heard of an individual reviled as every monster the children in Albion grew up fearing. To Arthur this was all just superstitious fairytale nonsense.

 

“But you don’t agree?” the prince asked, thinking he had the measure of Emrys. He wouldn’t have played this woman up if he hadn’t planned on knocking her off her pedestal and exposing her for what she really was (and as he had described her before) – an overhyped murderer.

 

Emrys looked at him and smiled. “No, I don’t agree.”

 

Merlin snorted back a chuckle too, making Emrys smile. He himself remembered how amusing he had found his own frankness back then. It would be the last laugh Merlin would have for a while now.

 

“These days I refer to her by the nickname she is given by rivals among ‘The Sacred Order’,” Emrys finished with an ironic smile. The two others leaned forward, expecting the name to be something shocking or unusual: “Lafoire.”

 

Arthur wrinkled his nose. “That’s not much of a name.”

 

“She hates that name,” Emrys replied. “That’s why we use it; she would much prefer to be thought of as someone terrifying. ‘Lafoire’ just sounds like someone putting on a show.”

 

“I’d say she’s a little more dangerous than an egocentric drama-queen” Arthur mumbled, glancing at Gwen again.

 

“I agree,” Emrys nodded. “Her rivals didn’t – that’s why she killed them.”

 

“Just like that?” Merlin gasped.

 

Emrys looked at him, his expression dark. “Just like that. She would kill  _anyone_  without a second thought. Think of how viciously she attacked Gwen. She decided she would kill her, so she tried to do it.”

 

It made Arthur sick inside.

 

“I know,” Emrys nodded, seeing the prince’s expression. “I have always thought the most frightening type of person is the sort that does things simply because they think it’s a good idea.”

 

He took a deep breath.

 

“The only thing that’s worse is someone that kills or plots to kill chiefly for revenge or personal gain,” the secretive man added.

 

Arthur knew Emrys was talking to him, about his earlier fury over what had happened to Gwen. He still wanted to see this witch suffer for what she had done to all those people although he had better control of his nerves and temper again now Guinevere was recovering. Yet had she died with the others he would have probably sought violent retribution.

 

“Revenge is the most worthless of causes,” Arthur admitted guilty. “I know I lost my head before – but the people that have died deserve _justice_  for what has happened.”

 

He paused.

 

“This ‘Lafoire’ has stolen the Crystal of Neahtid and the last person who stole the crystal was a lunatic...” he added slowly.

 

 _Yes she was_ , Merlin nodded silently.

 

“She has murdered innocent people and stolen a weapon affiliated with traitors to Camelot,” Arthur concluded. “My father has ordered me to find this woman. He will take no more chances with renegade sorcerers.”

 

Now Emrys nodded and looked to Merlin.

 

He was still silent, thinking of the last time when the crystal was stolen. When Arthur spoke of a lunatic he thought of Alvarr, in favour of not only killing Uther but slaughtering all who served him. But Merlin thought of Morgana, who had been bought into Alvarr’s sweet-talking and had agreed to his drastic plans with little more than a faint  _‘Oh dear!’_

 

He used to think Morgana had so much more sense.

 

Emrys sighed. “Alright, I understand that. Nonetheless I stand by what I said earlier – storming through the castle waving your sword will only get you killed faster.”

 

“You think she’s still in the castle?” Merlin jumped in. “She’s already stolen the crystal.”

 

“She’s here,” Emrys said, closing his eyes and nodding. “I know it – she could have left as soon as she stole the crystal but she didn’t. She stuck around and attacked Gwen. She  _wants_  to get our attention...”

 

Arthur folded his arms and walked towards Emrys as if he were about to interrogate a prisoner rather than someone who had been helping him all this time. As he spoke he sounded both suspicious and curious. “You seem to know an awful lot about this  _witch_.”

 

Emrys took no notice of Arthur’s standoffish behaviour.

 

“Let’s just say we used to be on the same page,” he replied firmly. “But we’re not anymore.”

 

“What page is that?”

 

There was a long silence.

 

Emrys pointed at Arthur, ready to squabble. “That is neither here or there. All that matters is that I get her back to where she came from. That is _my_  job.”

 

Arthur scowled. “I thought you were here to visit the family.”

 

He nodded towards Merlin.

 

Emrys looked over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. “How did you ever put up with him?” he asked Merlin humorously.

 

“Leave Merlin out of this,” Arthur snapped.

 

His face was inches away from Emrys’s.

 

“That’s very difficult to do,” Emrys said with a tint of irony before adding, “He is my cousin after all.”

 

Arthur stamped his heel on the floor and relaxed.

 

He had gone through a large range of feelings throughout the day and none more so than over the last hour. He knew he was still feeling anxious over Gwen, but there was also that strange feeling he felt towards Emrys. It automatically wanted to trust him yet all his common sense told him to be weary. Relative of Merlin’s or not he was a stranger to him.

 

“Who are you, Emrys?” Arthur finally asked. “And why are you  _really_  here?”

 

Emrys managed to reply without glancing at Merlin this time. If he done so he would have seen him look very interested. Then again, he remembered being curious and still no closer to realising who he was.

 

“It’s a long story and one I really don’t have time to tell,” the elder man said at last. “Right now, I have to track down Lafoire and get her back to where she came from.  _That_  is why I’m here. Like I said it’s my  _job_.”

 

He said it in such a patronising tone that Arthur felt himself become annoyed again. As Emrys turned around, clearly on his way out the door to leave and look for Lafoire he followed him. “I didn’t say you could leave.”

 

“I don’t have to listen to you,” Emrys chuckled as he went. “You’re not the king...  _yet_. I wouldn’t listen even then!”

 

Arthur grabbed Emrys’s shoulder and spun him around. If anything the elder Merlin was just amused, and glanced in the direction of the younger Merlin to exchange a mutual understanding for their master’s temper.

 

“If you are going to track down this witch then I am coming with you,” Arthur told him.

 

“I don’t need you,” Emrys retorted, resting his hands on his hips. “You’d be better off staying here with Gwen. Merlin can come with me.”

 

Merlin’s eyes widened, “Me?!”

 

Arthur was equally surprised, scoffing: “ _Merlin_ , what good would he do?”

 

The younger servant tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. The prince bit the inside of his cheek in frustration before letting out a puff of air.

 

“Sorry Merlin,” he said slowly, before patting him on the shoulder and adding “But I’m still right.”

 

Emrys smiled. “You’d be surprised how useful Merlin can be.”

 

“So you have  _a lot_  of things you need carrying?” Arthur said sarcastically.

 

“Very funny,” Emrys gritted through a smile. “Believe what you want I’m still finding Lafoire without you.”

 

He walked back towards the bed where Gwen lay peacefully sleeping. Emrys smiled down at her before he looked at Arthur again.

 

“Someone has to stay with Gwen,” he told the prince.

 

Merlin noticed Arthur slowly ebb back towards feeling worried again. He sighed, “I’ll stay here and look after her.”

 

Arthur spun around. “And what if the witch comes back?”

 

“So I’ll...” the servant paused for a moment before noticing the display of weaponry lying standing at the side of the room, “I’ll defend her with, you know, that lot over there.”

 

His eyes widened. “’That lot over there’? You say things like that and I don’t feel safe leaving you alone!”

 

“Fine,” Emrys said, rubbing his hands together. “You two stay here and I’ll go by myself. Goodbye, I’ll bring the crystal back when I’m done.”

 

Arthur grabbed his arm again. “You’re not going without someone to keep an eye on you.”

 

Emrys was starting to get annoyed.

 

“So you still don’t trust me?” he said, irritated.

 

“You’re a stranger,” the prince observed. “Shifty, like you’ve got something to hide.”

 

Emrys smiled faintly. “I’m an open book.”

 

A strange echo coursed through Arthur and Merlin like a sense of déjà vu.

 

“Arthur,” Emrys said after another, short pause. “I don’t particularly care if you don’t trust me because if I were watching me, I wouldn’t know whether or not I could trust me either” and he looked to Merlin at that moment before turning back to Arthur. “I’d forgotten just how awkward you could be at this age—”

 

“What are you talking about?” Arthur interrupted.

 

“So I’m sorry for this,” Emrys finished, and turned away slightly.

 

The prince tilted his head, “Sorry for what?”

 

Suddenly before either of the two younger men knew what had happened Emrys spun around again, focusing his palm directly at Arthur’s face. He had little time to look surprised or bewildered as the elder warlock shouted  _“...cysgu nawr!”_  forcefully. Immediately Arthur stiffened up, his face froze and his eyes crossed as if he had been knocked over the head. Then he fell backwards onto the bed, collapsing like a sack of spuds beside Gwen.

 

Emrys sighed. “Wow, it’s been nearly ten years since I last had to do that.”

 

Merlin rushed to his side: Arthur’s was out like a light.

 

“Y-you just...” he spluttered as his elder self strode calmly towards the door. “You just... knocked him out.”

 

“Yep,” Emrys said, uncaring.

 

“You knocked him out,” the servant said again, adding: “with  _magic_?!”

 

Emrys jeered, “Oh  _please_ —like you didn’t suspect I was a sorcerer.”

 

He opened the main door to Arthur’s chambers before suddenly stopping, turning back and outstretching his arm across the room to point at the small door near Arthur’s bed. He whispered  _“...drws selio!”_  and the room was filled with a large click as the door locked firm. Emrys then proceeded to go out the main door again.

 

He turned to Merlin, “Aren’t you coming?”

 

Merlin looked at him. He wanted to – something inside him told him that he should. It was that gut feeling that kicked in whenever he was around someone magical. Usually it ordered him to trust or bond with the person it was indicating but after being duped by Nimueh, charmed by a troll in disguise and being forced to kill Morgana he had decided not to trust it anymore.

 

He looked back to Arthur. “Will they be alright?”

 

“Of course,” Emrys said reassuringly, coming back into the room. “You can clearly see they’re just asleep. Arthur will be up again in half an hour, although he won’t be best pleased because I intend to lock him in here.”

 

Merlin’s eyes widened. “Is that really necessary?”

 

“It’s the safest place for him,” Emrys told him. “Besides he’ll be waking up next to Gwen and be trapped in a room with her for the rest of the day. He’ll think he’s still dreaming.”

 

Merlin smirked.

 

“I don’t know if I should—”

 

“Alright,” Emrys said, turning around to finally leave. “But just do you know I’m locking you in too.”

 

As if that were some terrible threat, he immediately rushed out the room. He looked Emrys in the eye one last time before edging past him to get out into the hallway. Once they were both out Emrys closed Arthur’s bedroom door and said  _“...drws selio!”_  again. The loud click echoed down the corridor.

 

Emrys smiled and looked to Merlin.

 

“Now, let’s go and find Lady Congenial.”

 

He strode off down the passageway but Merlin stayed still. It took Emrys a second to remember that Merlin wasn’t following him yet, so he turned around to face him.

 

“Come on, then.”

 

Merlin looked at him. “You do realise that Uther will have you executed if he finds out you too have magic. It won’t matter to him that you’re using it to stop Lafoire.”

 

“Uther Pendragon is the least of my worries,” Emrys replied, completely undisturbed by what Merlin had told him. He had no reason to be as he had lived all his youth in fear of Uther. That was not going to change now he was older. “Now, come on – are you with me or not?”

 

Merlin did not linger another moment, and quickly picked up the pace to walk side by side, shoulder to shoulder, neck to neck and step to step with Emrys.

 

There was still something about this man  _but he just couldn’t put his finger on it._

 

 

*

 

 

The evening drew in as Gaius sat at his table, studying the two sidhe wands.

 

He had made a study of the aos sidhe after what had happened two years ago with those two banished sidhe. Despite being a fairy race they were a vicious people with powerful magic. It was quite possible that Emrys (and maybe the mysterious witch too) were both of the same species as young Sophia had been. The viciousness of the sorceress was very much like the sidhe, who killed mortal creatures for fun although death among their own kind was strictly forbidden.

 

Yet that theory did not add up.

 

For one thing neither Emrys nor the witch had targeted Arthur, who would still be considered a great prize for the immortal beings of Avalon, but instead the witch had targeted five men, two women and two children. Furthermore the witch had killed the five guards while stealing the Crystal of Neahtid, a pointless object to a sidhe. The Crystal was supposed to possess the power of past, present and future: three concepts that the sidhe did not understand. The sidhe were children to the immortal gods and thus did not live in the present but in eternity.

 

He traced the writing of ancient scripture of the staff. It was exactly the same as Merlin’s.

 

“Sidhe staffs are carved individually,” he whispered to himself. “There must be a difference somewhere...”

 

Gaius then looked back to the book he was reading. He had decided to look up the old druidic legends of the sidhe, Avalon, the Otherworld and even the Caves of Neahtid in an attempt to better understand the motivations of the witch (and now Emrys).

 

It puzzled him that he was more focused on finding out who Emrys might be than he was on discovering who the witch might be.

 

He turned the page of his book and finally found the passage he was looking for. He leaned over keenly and read it to himself.

 

It said:  _“There have been some prophecies stretching back over hundreds of years linking Avalon and the Caves that lie in the valley of Neahtid at Tor. Eyewitnesses speak of a blinding light illuminating from the Caves similar to that seen by people nearing death. Some claim also to have entered the light and walked along the fields of plenty in Avalon while still living. It was thought by these people that the Caves not only held the secret of the past and the future, but the ability to travel to and from them...”_

 

The passage was illustrated by a picture of what these eyewitness reports claimed to have seen after walking into the light. The illustration was in black and white and clearly did not capture the colour of what was described:  _“I felt as though I were walking on air not earth. The colours were bright: green, white, yellow and blue like a variety of glittering jewels. The servants of Danu surrounded me before I walked out of the light again, and found myself on mortal earth... years into the future. With that I grew older within seconds, as if the world had past me by...”_

 

He turned the page again. This was all very interesting but it took him no closer to figuring out who Emrys was. Nonetheless his gut feeling told him that the likeness between the staffs was not a coincidence.

 

 _“The only individuals capable of controlling the power of time and of mortality belongs to legend,”_ Gaius went on, now reading aloud.  _“Emrys, also known as Ildánach-Macnia, is said to have walked between the realms of the Otherworld freely and simply, for he possessed the power of the aos sidhe in his rod...”_

 

Beside it there was another picture of a cloaked young man holding a sidhe staff as a young woman, cloaked and blindfolded, grips his hand as they face on a band on sidhe and another cloaked figure – an old woman – to whom the young man holds out his hand. The caption read: _“Emrys leads Macha_   _Badb and Bébinn Chinn Óir through the Otherworld for the final time.”_

 

Gaius looked down at the staff again. Obviously Emrys was not  _the_  Emrys as Emrys was just a legend... but it would explain how a young man who was older yet very similar to Merlin could walk into Camelot carrying an identical staff.

 

There was a knock at the door.

 

“Come in!” he called, looking up from his book.

 

Sir Leon opened the door. “The king wishes to speak with you.”

 

“Yes, I’ll come immediately.”

 

The knight turned around to leave and Gaius immediately placed Emrys’s sidhe staff back against the wall before turning towards Merlin’s room to put the sidhe staff away. He placed it back below the floor boards and left the room immediately.

 

As he entered the main room again he was startled to see Sir Leon had returned.

 

“You made me jump!” the old man gasped. “Was there anything else?”

 

“No, it’s just...” Leon said, looking down at the book Gaius had been reading. “Isn’t that the legend of Emrys?”

 

“Yes,” Gaius replied, walking towards the door. Leon followed. “I was trying to do some background reading... on the Caves of Neahtid, where the crystal originally came from.”

 

“ _He_  was trapped in a tower of crystal, wasn’t he?” Leon asked. “Or maybe it was a cave...?”

 

“Was he?” Gaius said, having never heard that version before. He had only ever heard the version where he was trapped by his wife in a tree or a lake or a tower. He thought he had heard the story of a cave before, though. “There are lots of versions I think.”  
  
  
*  
  
  
Merlin followed Emrys as he stalked the dimly lit corridors of the castle. There was very little said between the two of them since they had left Arthur and Gwen locked in Arthur’s chambers. It had mainly past in silence as Emrys strode around before stopping, listening and then walking on. Occasionally he would mutter “I know you’re here” so quietly that Merlin wondered if had really said it.   
    
Maybe he hadn’t?   
    
Maybe it was all in his mind?   
    
In fact that was what Emrys was trying to do: seek out Lafoire with his mind. It had always been one of his gifts to hear the voices of people from a great distance or to read the minds of other people. Merlin had this ability too but Emrys had years of experience to help him use it for accurately and practically.   
    
“Are you sure she’s still in Camelot?” Merlin finally asked.   
    
Emrys looked up. “I can sense her presence. It’s fresh and recent – so she has definitely come this way.”   
    
The younger warlock looked up at the flickering walls of the castle.   
    
“You can feel it too, can’t you?” the elder warlock said.   
    
Merlin’s head snapped around to look at him. “Why would I sense it?”   
    
Emrys tilted his head. “We always know our own, don’t we? You have magic there’s no denying it, it bleeds right off you.”   
    
The younger man was bewildered by Emrys’s frankness at talking about magic. A guard could walk around the corner at any moment and hear them. He wasn’t to know that Emrys remembered that no one had been listening.   
    
Merlin leaned closer. “Even if you’re right (and I’m not saying you are), what do you mean it bleeds off me? And how do you know I ‘feel it’ too?”  
    
Emrys chuckled. “You know that tingly feeling in your stomach, the one that feels like being in love? That’s what I’m talking about. You feel it too?”   
    
“I suppose,” Merlin said, placing his hand on his stomach. He could  _feel_  it. “You’re saying that’s Lafoire?”   
    
“Yep,” Emrys said, before he stopped suddenly and looked away. “She’s definitely close by...”   
    
He ran off down the corridor and Merlin quickly followed. They finally stopped near one end of the cloisters, when Emrys stood looking out into the courtyard. He smelt, tasted and sensed the air.   
    
“She definitely hasn’t left,” he announced. “She’d  _definitely_  still here.”   
    
There was a long pause as he continued to listen out for her. There were faint murmurs in his head but they were all other people within the castle. It was difficult even for an expert to pick out Lafoire specific voice or thoughts, especially since she was in disguise. Fortunately her inner voice always sounded the same.   
    
“Emrys,” Merlin said suddenly.   
    
His concentration was interrupted.   
    
“Yes?” He was almost annoyed that he was talking to him at this time, even though he knew it was going to happen. “You have a question?”   
    
“Before in Arthur’s chambers,” Merlin said, “you said that your job was to find this witch and take her back to where she came from.”   
    
“Yes?”   
    
“So,” the servant finished, “you intend to take her alive?”   
    
Emrys paused. “She’s more trouble to me dead than alive.”   
    
“But after all those people she killed...”   
    
“It’s like Arthur said – revenge is the most worthless of causes,” Emrys said simply, before chuckling. “Funny, that’s one of the smartest things he’s ever come up with. It’s almost as good as Gwen’s choices saying.”   
    
“Yeah,” Merlin chuckled back. “Um, what choices thing do you mean?”   
    
Emrys stopped and thought.  _Oops, sorry not yet!_    
    
“Just... something I heard her say,” he replied. “It was very good. Anyway, I have to concentrate now. Lafoire could come around the corner and surprise us at any moment.”   
    
Merlin nodded.   
    
“So do you think she’ll be in Mavis’s form or Joan’s form?” he asked.   
    
“Neither,” Emrys replied. “She doesn’t know it’s just you and me looking for her – two people who would have worked the secret behind her magic trick – so I’d say she’ll probably be one of Mavis’s daughters.”   
    
The young warlock closed his eyes. It chilled him to think that a child killed the previous night would now act as the disguise for the witch that murdered her.   
    
“So in order to take a person’s form,” Merlin sniffed. “You have to kill them?”   
    
“If you just want their bodies, yes” Emrys replied distractedly, seeming not to notice Merlin’s saddened tone. Truth was he didn’t have time to reminisce any more about how he felt all those years ago when he saw these events for the first time. “However if you need not only their appearance but their memories, thoughts and feelings you have to steal their essence... and they need to be alive for that.”   
    
“Why couldn’t she have done that?”   
    
“Because Lafoire just needed hosts,” Emrys explained. “She needed several good disguises not one  _brilliant_  disguise. It takes  _a lot_  of magic to steal one person’s essence; you need to put them into a  _byw marwolaeth_  and even then you can’t always tell the difference between that person’s actual memories and their vivid musings. It has led to some  _very awkward_  misunderstands.”   
    
Merlin smiled. “You certainly know a lot about magic.”   
    
“Remember it well,” Emrys advised him. “You never know someday  _you_  might have to explain the laws of  _drych marw_ to a daft nineteen-year-old.”   
    
Suddenly the conversation was killed by a youthful cry of  _“...fflam oer!_ ” and a cold blue flame shooting in their direction. Emrys had sensed it coming and ducked down quickly as the blast hit the wall, leaving a smoky stain on the white walls.   
    
Both men looked down the cloisters to see a young girl run from the scene.   
    
Emrys jumped to his feet and hurried after her. “I’m sorry Merlin!” he cried back, “I got distracted – that is Lafoire.”   
    
He was through the smoke and after her before Merlin could get going. The young warlock tried his best to follow the frantic sound of footsteps as they disappeared down the corridor towards the vaults. What was she doing still in the castle? Had Emrys been right? Had she been waiting for him?   
    
But why?   
    
Emrys followed her down a narrow corridor.   
    
“Lafoire!” he called to her, “You must want to take else why would you still be here?!”   
    
The younger girl turned around and cried, “...rhewi!” and once again he ducked.   
    
Quickly he extended his arm to cry back a mutual “...rhewi!”   
    
She also ducked it and ran off. He thought it amazing she managed to keep going: her clothes were far too big for the form she had taken. Part of him wished he had a younger form he could slip into. No, he wasn’t old but he imagined his younger self could have caught Lafoire by now.   
    
Their chase eventually took them down towards the dungeons, close by the entrance to the dark caves.   
    
Lafoire leapt down two stairs at a time, looking up every down and then to see if Emrys was coming. Eventually he appeared on the stairs.   
    
 _“...llosgi chi!”_  she shouted.   
    
With that a real burning flame leaped up, but Emrys quelled it immediately with a loud  _“...oeri!”_    
    
The false little girl saw this, noticed the doors at the bottom of the stairs and rushed to open them.   
    
Emrys saw this and without uttering a word, used his most powerful asset – his natural gift – to lock the door. His mind was the powerful asset he had for all his magic spells. It was certainly too more for the likes of Lafoire to handle.   
    
She rushed to unlock the doors; she fussed with the lock but it was sealed shut. She placed her hand at the lock and shouted “... _datglo_!” but the only effect was the ineffective sound of panging metal from inside the lock.   
    
She bit her lip and looked behind her as Emrys as he slowly walked down the stairs behind her. She tried another spell  _“...clo ar agor!”_  but still nothing.   
    
Emrys was at the bottom of the stairs. She tried another spell, now frantically calling  _“...agored!”_    
    
Nothing.   
    
She heard him stop eight feet behind her.   
    
“There you are!” he said in a falsely cheerfully voice.   
    
Lafoire rolled her eyes, stood up straight and turned to face him. The expression on Emrys’s face infuriated her; he almost looked sorry for her inability to open the lock, like he had expected better from her. Like a teacher staring down a student.   
    
She smiled ironically. “Emrys, fancy a chat?”   
    
“How like you to trivialise the situation once you’re cornered,” Emrys responded, his tone now cool.   
    
“Me!” Lafoire scoffed in return. “I’d have thought that was one of  _your_  flashy habits. The way your mouth runs  _all the time_  is like a babbling brook: full of cheap wit and useless nonsense.”   
    
“I would hardly to tell my greatest enemy  _useful_  nonsense,” Emrys chuckled.   
    
“And so it begins.”   
    
Although she was wearing little Anwen’s face he could see Lafoire beneath the innocent exterior. She had the same dark expression she wore when (on rare occasion) she looked at him through her own eyes. The fact that these expressions were appearing on a child’s face made it all the more disturbing.   
    
She looked him up and down. “What do you want Merlin?”   
    
“You know what I want,” he said plainly, and she scoffed again. “Give me the crystal. I will return it, let Arthur tell Uther that the sorceress is dead and we will return to our time together.”   
    
“And then what? We kiss and live happily ever after?” she asked sarcastically.   
    
Emrys’s expression was neutral.   
    
“And then no one else here gets hurt.”   
    
“What makes you think I’ll just hand over the crystal like that?” she retorted.   
    
“Of course,” the warlock said dramatically, slapping his forehead before waving his hand towards Lafoire in a very patronising way. “I haven’t asked you how or why you came here, so indulge me.”   
    
She shrugged. “Isn’t it obvious? I came to claim the crystal.”   
    
“No you didn’t,” he said, shaking his head and smiling. “You can’t even unlock that deadlocked door so there is no way you opened the cave on purpose.”   
    
Lafoire looked sheepish.   
    
“It was...” she began, before she looked down and muttered, “It was already open when I got there.”   
    
“Ha, I knew it!”   
    
“But” she said firmly. “I don’t know who or what did open it. I sensed that it was powerful magic...” Emrys made a mysterious smile. She scowled. “Who opened it?”   
    
“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “We may never know. The magic inside it is so powerful it probably opened itself. It was sealed many years ago to hold the greatest sorcerer that would ever live... maybe it couldn’t contain all that power any longer and burst open like Sir Bors’s flies at Yuletide...”   
    
“Like I said,” Lafoire interrupted. “Your mouth is running!”   
    
Emrys tilted his head. “Why did you go to the caves in the first place?”   
    
“I’d read the legends,” she explained. “I wanted to see inside for myself.”   
    
“You were hoping to find out the secret of Neahtid?” the wiser Merlin concluded. Lafoire scowled at him which indicated that he was right. “I suppose that  _gang_  you belong to still hope that Mordred will control the Otherworld?”   
    
“What makes you think that?”   
    
The door at the top of the stairs slowly opened and young Merlin crept in, unnoticed by the other two.   
    
“The Sacred Order exists to control the Otherworld,” Emrys replied sarcastically. “Mordred only uses you and the others to get what  _he_  wants. He is  _an unscrupulous man_.”   
    
Lafoire looked as if one of her veins was about to burst.   
    
“Mordred is dedicated to the Order’s cause,” she told him firmly. “One day he  _will_  control the crystal and the Caves of Neahtid will shine because he makes them, not because of a  _magic overspill_!”   
    
“You keep telling yourselves that,” Emrys scoffed. “Show me the crystal.”   
    
Lafoire hissed, reached into her cloak oversized cloak and brought out the crystal. She viciously pulled the crystal out of the velvet pocket she had kept it in and held it. It looked large in her small hands.   
    
Emrys looked at it. “Did  _you_  try to use it?”   
    
“You know I do not have the power to wield the crystal,” Lafoire pouted.   
    
He held out his hand. “Give it to me.”   
    
“Say please.”   
    
“Please give it to me and we’ll go.”   
    
Lafoire looked at the crystal before smiling wickedly.   
    
“Nah,” she replied proudly. “I’ll think I’ll hold on to it for now, until I can get a bigger concession out of you.”   
    
“Regardless of what we agree here you will give me that crystal,” Emrys told her with certainty. “I know because I myself returned that crystal to Arthur – and Uther Pendragon sealed it in an unknown place, known only to a few. You can’t take the crystal.”   
    
“The future is not set in stone,” Lafoire said.   
    
“No, but you can’t influence the things you have no personal control of,” Emrys snapped back. “The future is built on choices, not hindsight. That crystal does not belong in our time –  _you can’t physically take it_.”   
    
“Like I couldn’t physically hurt Gwen?” she retorted spitefully.   
    
Emrys sneered. “Gwen is still alive... your spur of the moment decision resulted in nothing but a  _much_  outranged and passionately driven Arthur. If you  _had_  killed her you’d have turned him into the second Uther Pendragon, you moron!”   
    
Behind them Merlin made his way slowly down the stairs until the two sorcerers were in sight. He then crouched down to watch the confrontation, not sure what to do next.   
    
“It wasn’t me that made this mess,” Lafoire suddenly said accusingly. “Those five guards – you knew they would be killed but you did nothing to stop me.”   
    
Emrys looked away guiltily. He stopped. He turned his head slightly to his right as he sensed the presence of himself behind him. It silenced him immediately and he looked straight at Lafoire.   
    
“I’m just as incapable of changing the way things happened as you are,” he said softly. “I can’t deny that I don’t feel guilty, unlike you.   
    
“You’re not getting me  _this way_.”   
    
“Neither are you,” Emrys snapped back. He took a step forward and Lafoire instinctively stepped back against the door. “You’ve forgotten what it’s like to see your own face in the mirror.”   
    
She watched him through lowered eyelashes. “Don’t pretend after all these years you haven’t changed, that you haven’t come colder.”   
    
“Oh it has!” Emrys agreed. “I still think about all the things I have done. I,” he paused for a second, “I even remember  _your_  face. Back when you had a real face, before you cannibalised it and started to steal the skin of innocent people to hide the  _ugliness_  of your cruelty.”   
    
“You  _made_  me,” the child’s face said firmly.   
    
The moment she said those words a pang went through the young Merlin’s chest. It felt as if those words were addressing him.   
    
Emrys was undisturbed. “No,  _you_  made yourself.”   
    
Her large child’s eyes stared at him, as if not understanding.   
    
“You were gone before I finished you off,” he told her plainly. “If you think you can lay  _all_  the blame at my door you deceive yourself. I am guilty but I cannot take credit for the creation of ‘Lafoire’. That honour goes to one woman and one woman alone.”   
    
There was a moment’s pause.   
    
Lafoire smiled childishly.   
    
“Oh well,” she said, unbothered. “It was worth a try. Although the least you could do was call me by my real name.”   
    
Emrys nodded and held out his hand. “Give me the crystal.”   
    
“Oh I forgot!” she said amusedly. “He doesn’t know, does he? Very well in that case I order you to let me go or else your ‘cousin’ gets toasted.”   
    
Before Emrys could reply Lafoire turned sharply to look at the stairs where young Merlin standing. Without a thought she shouted  _“...fflam oer!_ ” and the same blue flame from before shot from her hand towards him. Emrys immediately raised his hand and shouted  _“...amddiffyn!”_ protecting the younger Merlin as he rushed down the stairs to avoid the attack.   
    
He reached the bottom and stood at Emrys’s side.   
    
Lafoire laughed. “I’d almost forgotten how thin and fresh you are” she remarked to Merlin. She then turned to Emrys, “The boy has not quite yet become the man, has he?”   
    
Merlin scowled at her.   
    
“You are barely a match for me on your own,” Emrys said as if to remind Lafoire. “With Merlin to help me we could finish you off...”   
    
Lafoire laughed again. “I like having the odds against me.”   
    
The young Merlin held out his hand. “Give the crystal to me; I’ll return it to Arthur and, as far as I’m concerned, you can go.”   
    
“How considerate,” she said. “And what does the great ‘Emrys’ have to say for the situation? Will you let me go if I give him the crystal?”   
    
Emrys glanced at her side ways.   
    
He sighed. “If you give Merlin the crystal and leave with me now...”   
    
“Yes?” Lafoire asked, waiting to hear what her treat would be.   
    
“I promise I will give you... a portion of my magic.”   
    
To Merlin this didn’t seem like much of a bargain but then he saw the expression on Lafoire’s face. She seemed both pleased and smug, like she had achieved something brilliant. Her grin was too grown up for a child’s face.   
    
“Oh Emrys!” she laughed sardonically. “It seems that  _Merlin_  doesn’t have a clue what a loss you are making.”   
    
Merlin looked up. “Is it such a loss?”   
    
“It makes her more powerful,” Emrys said bluntly. “But it’s worth it to get that crystal back and hidden so that neither the renegades of today nor the Sacred Order of tomorrow can take it.”   
    
The young warlock had become used to listening to Emrys’s riddles but he was curious by them constantly mentioning ‘The Sacred Order’. He imagined it must be some cult... nonetheless his blood chilled the moment they had mentioned Mordred. It seemed that druid boy got everywhere, teamed up and got taken in by all the wrong people.   
    
He should have known any renegade would want the crystal for him.   
    
“Yes,” Emrys finally said. “It is worth it.”   
    
Lafoire sighed and brought out the crystal again. She admired the way the torch lights shone off its surface and just for a second imagined if she could see the future in the crystal. Not that she needed it, having the gift of foresight. It would be a great thrill to wield the crystal, though. However it was not to be – the prophecy said only ‘Emrys’ and Mordred had the power.   
    
“It is our usual concession charge,” she joked, taking the crystal from the pouch and throwing it to Merlin. He caught it awkwardly. “He takes some of my magic and I take some of his... I’ll never overcome him alone but I don’t need to,” she said mockingly, “I have a whole gang of warlocks and witches on my side... what does he have?”   
    
Emrys ignored her.   
    
“Take that crystal immediately to Arthur, he will take it to Uther” he ordered Merlin.   
    
Merlin looked down at the crystal; it still gave him the creeps even now. He dared not look at it after what happened last time.   
    
“I’ll tell you what he has,” she said spitefully. “A po-faced idiotic blonde that doesn’t know the tip of a magic wand.  _Frightening_.”   
    
Merlin raised lowered his eyes.  _What was she talking about?”_    
    
Lafoire grinned and held out her hand for Emrys.   
    
“Come on then!” she said like an actual child, “ _Gimme_!”   
    
“Not yet,” Emrys said, grabbing her hand quickly.   
    
He was in the midst of finishing a sentence but Merlin did not catch the end as, the moment he took hold of her hand, Emrys and Lafoire disappeared in an instant, literally vanished into thin air. Merlin had never seen a transportation spell like that. It usually took a few seconds to whip up a transport spell but one moment they were there, the next minute they were gone. Like ghosts.   
    
“Emrys?!” Merlin called, knowing that his friend was now long gone for a warlock. Yet he called again as he slowly walked up the stairs, “Emrys!”   
    
Then a strange sadness fell over him.   
    
Emrys was gone and he hadn’t got to say goodbye.   
    
    
*   
    
    
“The search for the sorceress has been unsuccessful, sire” Sir Leon confessed reluctantly before the king and the court. “Furthermore it seems Prince Arthur has not... checked in for the last few hours. We assume he is still searching.”   
    
Uther’s face was full of typical thunder.   
    
“Perhaps,” he said worriedly, before his voice slowly rose higher and higher into infuriated growls. “Or perhaps  _that witch_  has caught up with him. This is a woman that stole the Crystal of Neahtid, killed five guards and has slaughtered children without a thought and  _you left Arthur alone_.”   
    
The knights all looked down sheepishly.   
    
Gaius scowled about the room, not blaming the knights but Uther for overworking them. A quarter were searching the town, another quarter were trying to find the sorceress and the rest were being slaughtered themselves, day in day out, trying to find Morgana.   
    
“There are not enough men, sire” Leon finally.   
    
Uther responded by throwing his goblet right against the door. “Morons!” he screamed bitterly. “I am surrounded by  _fools_!”   
    
Gaius took a deep breath and stepped forward. “My lord—”   
    
However he was interrupted as the main door came open. Everyone turned and surprise filled the air as Arthur strode into the audience room, followed behind by Merlin. Their eyes immediately fell on the object Arthur held in his hands.   
    
He stopped in front of his father and held it out to him. It was the Crystal of Neahtid.   
    
Uther took it from his son’s hands. His demure immediately became relaxed and calm, almost embarrassed by his reaction seconds before. The magical object was heavy and real in the king’s hands. He down at his son who stared back at him, unblinking.   
    
“Is the sorceress dead?” he asked.   
    
“She won’t be stealing it again,” Arthur simply said.   
    
And Arthur looked back at Merlin.   
    
It had been difficult having to explain to Arthur and Gwen what had happened with Emrys and Lafoire when he returned to Arthur’s chambers to finally let them out. Naturally his master had been annoyed at being locked in his bedroom, although strangely enough he had little memory of how it had happened. He certainly didn’t remember Emrys using magic on him, which was probably a good thing.   
    
On the other hand Gwen still couldn’t get over the likeness between Emrys and Merlin. Yet just like with Arthur while it was something she had noticed she had no reason to suspect the truth. At least no more than Merlin himself did.   
    
In the end Merlin had told Arthur more or less the truth: that Emrys had caught up with Lafoire, recaptured her and asked him to deliver the crystal to him.   
    
 _“Unfortunately he left very abruptly,”_  Merlin had explained quickly.  _“He was sorry not to be able to say goodbye to both of you.”_    
    
 _“It’s just as well,”_  Arthur said, looking at the crystal.  _“I’m convinced he did something to me back there, Merlin. I don’t know what it was but if I ever remember and see him, I’ll bloody kill him.”_    
    
Merlin and Gwen had both smiled.   
    
 _“We had best get the crystal back to my father,”_  Arthur said, holding it up and walking out the door. The two servants nodded and looked to each other.   
    
Merlin smiled.  _“Are you feeling alright now?”_    
    
 _“Me,”_  Gwen asked modestly.  _“I’m fine... in fact I feel better than I did before. Not that I want to repeat the incident! Being strangled by a psychopathic walking corpse isn’t exactly an experience I want to relive.”_    
    
Merlin could still see the bruise marks across her neck. It was amazing that she had survived that assault.   
    
 _“Did you ever find our Emrys’s real name?”_  Gwen asked.   
    
 _“No,”_  Merlin shook his head.  _“I doubt I’ll ever find out now.”_    
    
Just as Emrys had said he would Uther Pendragon’s first thought was to hide the Crystal of Neahtid somewhere only he and a select few would know about. Merlin was not one of those few. So, for many years afterward the incident with Lafoire the crystal would be lost, buried and forgotten. It would not be until Merlin rose to a significant position in Camelot that he would finally find out where it was kept.   
    
 _“It’s a pity,”_  Merlin had said to Gaius later on that night as they ate dinner.  _“I never found out who Emrys really was.”_    
    
Gaius nodded slowly. He suspected that he knew who Emrys had been really, but part of him was glad that Merlin didn’t know. It would offer up too many questions if Merlin were to know that Emrys had been him, years from the future. They were questions best left unanswered.   
    
 _“It’s probably for the best,”_  the old man told his charge, and glanced across the room to look at the empty space where the second sidhe staff had been.  _“I suspect you will meet him again.”_    
    
Everyone was dismissed from the court as the crisis was over.   
    
Outside the chambers Gwen was waiting for either Arthur or Merlin to emerge. Her friend walked straight home with Gaius, and since she didn’t particularly want him she didn’t bother him. A part of her felt she should talk to Gaius about her potential future. After everything that had happened today she genuinely wondered if she could take carrying out even the smallest of errands for him.   
    
Seeing those dead children and then looking into the cold murderous eyes of their killer as she tried to chock the life out of her too... stunned her.   
    
Surviving the incident made her feel strangely strong despite looking very dishevelled – but she couldn’t take another moment staring at dead and sick people and trying not to become emotionally involved. Maybe one day she could do it, but not now. She still needed time.   
    
Arthur was one of the last to come out. He had done it on purpose, knowing (or rather hoping) that Gwen would be waiting for him and so they wouldn’t be seen by any busybody servants or gossiping nobility.   
    
He slowly stepped out of the large room and caught sight of her, smiling at him. It sent that old familiar vibe through him that drew him over to her like a magnet. She too stepped forward, getting a jolt of electricity through her arteries too.   
    
“So was everything alright?” Gwen asked.   
    
Arthur nodded. “I handed the crystal back, no problem. My father intends to lock it away somewhere more secure. He won’t take any more chances.”   
    
“I’m not surprised after today,” Gwen sighed solemnly.   
    
She reached up to touch the tender skin where Lafoire had throttled her. It wasn’t until she looked in some polished armour in Arthur’s chambers she realised just how obvious the bruises were. They worried her: people would likely notice and ask where she got them from. Then again they probably wouldn’t. They’d notice them and but never ask her, instead making up a story of how she got them.   
    
“I still have chills thinking about that witch,” she confessed after a moment.   
    
Arthur said nothing, and instead gently reached up to stroke the ugly fingerprint marks along her collar and throat.   
    
Gwen twitched under his touch but felt relaxed. She liked it especially because until his touch the skin felt soft and ticklish again rather than marked or sore. She liked it even more because it was a familiar gesture, a rare moment where she could allow Arthur to touch her in an intimate way and not feel like she was making a mistake.   
    
He swallowed. “When I saw you laying there on the floor I thought that I’d lost you.”   
    
Gwen nodded.   
    
“For a moment there I thought  _I’d_  lost me,” she said, trying to make a joke. It seemed to have the opposite effect of what she wanted. She dared to stroke his cheek with her hand. “Merlin told me how... upset you were.”   
    
“I felt like I’d let you down,” Arthur blurted out. “If anything had happened to you...”   
    
“But it didn’t,” she said firmly. “I’m fine.”   
    
“I couldn’t bear it,” he finished promptly.   
    
Arthur nearly jerked forward to kiss her but stopped himself.   
    
“Do you forgive me?” he suddenly asked.   
    
Gwen tilted her head and smiled. “For what? You have nothing to apologise for.”   
    
Her thumb delicately brushed his cheekbones.   
    
“Besides,” she said, finally thinking of something that she hoped would make him smile. “How many maidservants can boast to sleeping next to the prince on his nice big bed and soft pillows.”   
    
Arthur both smiled and blushed. It had always been a dream (or ambition) of his that one day Gwen  _would_  grace his bedroom, just not through the circumstances it had happened today. There was a moment when the two of them had come around from Emrys’s sleeping enchantment and thought the whole thing might be a dream... but they quickly realised they were still the prince and the servant girl.   
    
“My intentions were honourable,” Arthur joked back. “Although that said under different circumstances they would have been  _dis_ honourable with the best intentions.”   
    
Gwen gave him a coy smile.   
    
“Well,” she said after a moment. “That’s something to think about.”   
    
It hurt to say that because, as Arthur had once said, it was all talk. Chatter and wishful thinking... for now. But they could play the game this evening because they were grateful the other one had come out of this bizarre day unharmed. Ultimately they were both glad to have taken their minds off today’s horrible thing.   
    
    
*   
    
 _After they had disappeared from the younger Merlin’s presence Emrys transported himself and the witch back to Gaius’s chambers to pick up his sidhe staff. He had almost forgotten he was ever carrying and only remembered as he was fighting Lafoire and wished he had carried it with him._    
    
 _But that would have given the game away, surely._    
    
 _He picked up his sidhe wand._    
    
 _Lafoire laughed. “Still carrying that old ting around, are you?”_    
    
 _“It comes in handy,” he replied plainly, returning to her side. “Nothing compares with the magic of the sidhe, especially since we have to walk through the Otherworld realm to get back to our time.”_    
    
 _“Maybe I should have bargained for that instead of some of your magic.”_    
    
 _“Sorry, you can’t go back on a bargain” he said._    
    
 _Emrys began to enchant a mysterious red band around Lafoire’s wrist. It was to keep her from running off while they were in the Otherworld. It was a deadly and frightening place for someone who had not made a study of it. He glanced at the open books on the legends of Emrys and Macha lying open on the table._    
    
 _“Besides I wouldn’t give you the sidhe wand for anything,” he finished quickly._    
    
 _Lafoire noticed the books on the table too._    
    
 _“Did you see Gaius?” she asked._    
    
 _“Yes.”_    
    
 _“Did you give him a hug?”_    
    
 _Emrys swallowed. “No, he wouldn’t want to hug a complete stranger.”_    
    
 _“Pity,” Lafoire scoffed. “He’d have probably been pleased to have seen out ‘well’ you turned out.”_    
    
 _She looked back to the books and a tsk sound puffed from her lips. “Those legends about us certainly are pathetic. The least those damned myths and prophecies could have done was get our names right.”_    
    
 _“Some of them did,” Emrys muttered. “It was the druids that gave us names like Emrys and Macha.”_    
    
 _Lafoire looked at the picture:_ “Emrys leads Macha Badb and Bébinn Chinn Óir through the Otherworld for the final time.”   
    
 _“I wonder if it will happen,” she muttered to herself. “Is the enchanted band really necessary?”_    
    
 _“I’m not having you run off,” he said firmly. It was only then he noticed she was still in Anwen’s face on. “You could at least drop that disturbing disguise, Lafoire.”_    
    
 _She scoffed again. “You could at least call me by my_ real _name. I don’t mind being Macha Badb or the Cyhyraeth, but I hate the name Lafoire. It is meaningless. Not all of us have the lofty title of ‘Emrys’ you know,_ Merlin _.”_    
    
 _“My apologise Morgana,” ‘Emrys’ said through his falsely-smiling teeth. His voice tinted with bitterness. “Now, take off that face!”_    
    
 _He then yanked out and the amulet containing the hair of the four murdered women and girls from her pendant and threw it to the floor. Morgana screeched angrily and gave Merlin a vicious look as her face slowly began to melt back into its form._    
    
 _The amulet then smashed onto the floor, immediately revealing the witch’s true identity. Not that it would have mattered if Arthur, Gwen or Merlin had seen her for they would probably have barely recognised her. After years of using black magic to steal other people’s appearances it truly had brutalised her real face – it was deathly grey and looked as if it barely covered the clearly visible veins and arteries stretching all over her face, neck and arms. It was like looking at death itself._    
    
 _It almost made Merlin feel sad, to see that one of her greatest assets (Her beauty) was long since lost and forgotten. She was just a ghost inhabiting other people’s faces now... but Morgana had long since stopped caring._    
    
 _“It’s a long time since I’ve seen your face,” Merlin croaked. “It’s not quite as bad as I thought it would be.”_    
    
 _“Never mind that!” Morgana growled back, frustrated that one of her amulets had been destroyed. At least she had others at home. She held out her hand, “Give me what you promised me!”_    
    
 _“You’ll get it,” Merlin promised, holding his sidhe staff between them. “There’s just one more thing I have to ask before we go.”_    
    
 _She groaned. “What now?”_    
    
 _“Why did you kill those children?”_    
    
 _“Which children?”_    
    
 _“Ceri and Anwen,” he elaborated. “Mavis’s two children.”_    
    
 _“Should the name Mavis mean something to me?”_    
    
 _Merlin took a frustrated breath. “The woman that Joan was living with.”_    
    
 _“Oh,” Morgana’s eyes widened in realisation. “Well, after killing their mother it seemed like the most merciful thing to do.”_    
    
 _“Then why did you kill their mother?”_    
    
 _“I didn’t know she was a mother when I killed her,” Morgana said frankly, not defensively. It probably wouldn’t have made a difference even if she had known but she was telling the truth when she said she didn’t know at the time. “The busybody moron interrupted me after I killed the old woman.”_    
    
 _“What exactly happened?”_    
    
 _“I killed Joan for her form,” Morgana explained. “Then the mother came out, calling for her. She caught me. I quickly silenced her the same way I did with Gwen before, backed her into the house and then killed her too. Then I noticed the children; I thought it was the best thing.”_    
    
 _“They were children, Morgana!”_    
    
 _“I covered their faces,” she replied. “Isn’t that enough?”_    
    
 _“You still stole their forms.”_    
    
 _“I wasn’t going to let them go to waste. I didn’t use the little one.”_    
    
 _“They were_ children _,” Merlin snarled again. “They had their whole lives ahead of them.”_    
    
 _“Oh really?” she said, and tried to fold her arms but Merlin’s bond at her wrist yanked her arms straight again. “Would you have wanted to be eight years old and growing up an orphan in Uther Pendragon’s Camelot? I think not.”_    
    
 _“They still could have lived,” Merlin said quietly. “It was wrong to kill them.”_    
    
 _“Merlin” she said with a wobble of her head. “We both know that if I hadn’t killed those children the chances are they’d have died from some other catastrophe. If not one I created then one_ you _created.”_    
    
 _There was a long silence as Merlin decided not to reply._    
    
 _She tilted her head. “No showy retaliation.”_    
    
 _“No,” he said simply, holding the wand between them. “You’re right.”_    
    
 _That threw Morgana more than anything Merlin had said that day. “So? I answered your question now give me what you owe me!”_    
    
 _“Hold on to the sidhe wand” he ordered her._  
    
 _She made no attempt to take it._    
    
 _He rolled her eyes. “It will take a while for me to transfer knowledge from myself to you, so we might as well do it on the way home.”_    
    
 _“You make it sound like an outing!”_    
    
 _“I promise you’ll have your precious magical knowledge by the time we get home.”_    
    
 _Merlin grasped her bound wrist with his free hand and clasped it again the staff._    
    
 _“You never asked me about the red capes,” Morgana pointed out, raising the issue of her murder victims again._    
    
 _“I know why you killed them,” he replied simply. “Besides I thought we’d agreed to stop counting red capes, seeing as Camelot gets through so many of them.”_    
    
 _He then gave her a cheeky smile, one she had not seen since... well, many years since before he was that young man he was now in_ this _time. It unnerved her more than his scowl had._    
    
 _“Don’t worry,” he told her. “You won’t feel a thing.”_    
    
 _And just like that they disappeared once again._  

  
  
END


End file.
